Gadach Wen
by Cariad Llwyd Fychan
Summary: As a general rule, things to do with Harry Potter were disruptive. He just didn't think they'd be this disruptive. Feminine!Intersex!Harry REPOST
1. Chapter 1

_This fic was originally published by Sianco, who let me take over it for a while, before requesting I take it down in 2011 when he had a bout of ill health. Three years on, Sianco is now a little better, but will not be returning to writing, and has given me permission to finish Gadach Wen and all its relevant sequels._

As a general rule, things to do with Harry Potter were disruptive.

His birth was a disruption to Voldemort. His fame was a disruption to his everyday life. His escapades were disruptive to his education. His existence was disruptive to Professor Snape. His godfather was a disruption to the Ministry.

So it was only to be expected that his puberty years were going to be disruptive to something – but he never expected something like this.

He started to notice it at the start of the year. At first, he thought he was just getting fatter – there was a huge difference between the food at the Dursleys and food at Hogwarts, after all. So he paid no attention to it, and between the Triwizard Tournament and facing Voldemort, he had no time to remember it.

Until now. And seeing the size of them, Harry could only draw up one answer; for reasons unknown, he was growing a pair of of boobs.

This was not supposed to happen. Harry knew this from the sex education classes when he was ten and going to Muggle school – with much blushing and stammering the teacher had explained the birds and the bees, and all the changes, like extra hair in all sorts of places and different body parts growing. Breasts were definitely a female thing.

But he couldn't be female! He was male... well... _down there_. He was smaller than the other boys, he knew, but he could piss while standing, and after spending the majority of his second year in a girls bathroom, he was willing to bet that pissing while standing was one thing girls couldn't do.

He thought they might've been what Ron called "moobs" (used many a time to describe Crabbe and Goyle), but that was quickly thrown out the window when he noticed that he could still count his ribs. Plus they were a lot rounder than moobs – one only had to look at Dudley to see the difference. Dudley's were long, saggy and looked like a roll of fat, Harry's were round, sagging slightly and sticking out like twin mountains on a plain.

This was a problem. A terrible problem. What was he going to tell Ron and Hermione? He could imagine the conversation - _Oh hi guys, my summer was pretty uneventful apart from the fact I realised I've been growing boobs throughout the past year. How was your summer? _Ron and Hermione would probably look at him as if he'd grown an extra head.

And what was he going to tell Sirius? Sirius had gone through life thinking- _knowing_ he had a godson. What would he think? He considered sending him a letter, telling him about it and asking him for advice.

_Dear Snuffles,_

_I've started growing boobs. What should I do?_

_With love,_

_Harry_

It sounded stupid even in his own head.

A fleeting thought passed through his head – _what if he didn't tell them?_ It was easy enough to hide them, he just needed to wear Dudley's old clothes everywhere. The bagginess hid them perfectly. No-one would look twice, so used to his dress sense as they were.

It was a good idea, but it sunk to the bottom of Harry's stomach like a lead pipe, twisting and knotting itself over and over. He couldn't lie to his friends. Excluding the fact that he was a terrible liar, it would be wrong of him to keep this from them. He couldn't face the disappointed looks if they found out he had kept something from them. He just couldn't.

But what else was there to do?

_I could try and find out what this is, _he mused. He awkwardly clambered out of bed he lay in and looked around his cluttered bedroom, as if the answers to his questions would leap out of the shelves and tap-dance in front of him.

Unfortunately for him, no such thing happened. With a sigh, Harry headed into the abyss of owl droppings and parchment in search of something which may help his predicament

* * *

A few hours later, Harry still had no answers. There was no plant nor transfiguration nor charm nor potion in his school books that explained it. None of Dudley's old books had anything to do with medical problems either. Harry had made a very quick excursion to the family bookshelf in the hall and had found a book on birth complications. Aunt Petunia must have bought it when she was pregnant with Dudley.

He set astride his lap and started flicking through it, frist calmly, then with an uncontrollable desperation. It was his last chance.

He flew past grotesque diagrams of circumcision gone wrong, riffled past a chapter on Caesarean sections and tore through images of extra appendages pre- and post-operation. He was fast approaching the last pages, and Harry's hope began to wane.

_Please, oh please be something..._

There! Harry slammed his hand down on the page. The words "male breasts" and "puberty" jumped out of the page like victory fireworks in a night's sky. The hope retuned to him full force, and Harry though that maybe, _just maybe_, there would be an answer.

He read the paragraph, but the medical mumbo-jumbo made no sense to him, and Harry idly wondered how Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia ever understood the book. Harry checked the title of the paragraph, but the term "Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia" meant as much to him as the text. In desperation, he checked the chapter title.

And froze. His thoughts slowed down to a shuddering halt. It was as if the world had stopped turning and the floor had turned into the choppy waves of the sea. He read the title again and again, in hope that he had misread. He hadn't.

_Intersexuality – Ambiguous Genitalia And Their Causes._

_No..._ He re-read the paragraph, but it made as much sense to him as the first time he read it. He turned the pages for something he could understand, hoping that he was mistaken.

The next few pages were covered in images and renderings of intersex genitalia, but none which looked like Harry's. He started to calm, thinking it was all a big misunderstanding. That was until he found something which looked exactly like his own. The caption was _Female Pseudohermaphroditism/Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia._

_No way_, Harry thought, _there's no way I'm a girl with a cock. _He slammed the book shut with unnecessary force and threw it over the other side of the room. It hit the wall and bounced into his trunk. He watched it go, before turning to his clock on the bedside cabinet. Ten o'clock in the evening.

He rose, and started to get ready for bed. He was about to pull off his jeans when a thought struck him and left him horror-struck – _How on earth was he going to get changed in his dormitory? _With his new... _additions_, he couldn't just change in front of them like he'd always done.

Could he even get changed in the same changing room at Quidditch? Would the boys kick him out because of it? Would they take it badly, and kick him off the team? He envisioned the scene, Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, telling him they didn't accept _freaks_ on the team, he had to leave. He imagined the disappointed looks of his housemates, as if he had decided this fate upon himself, McGonagall's thin-lipped glare as he walked through the corridors, Malfoy and Snape looking positively gleeful... He violently shook his head to dispel the thought.

_Harry, those thoughts are stupid – they're not going to kick you off because of that! Anyway, it's probably just tiredness, _he thought determinedly, as he pulled his pyjama bottoms over his hips. _I'm probably just being self conscious, and thinking them bigger than they actually are. I'll see them as normal tomorrow. _With that, he switched off the light.

But as he climbed into bed, the niggling worries squirmed in the back of his mind, as if they was half eaten Flobberworms trying to escape predators. No matter how many times he told himself he was imagining things, they stayed there as he tossed and turned, feeding his over-tired mind with stray worries and half-formed imaginings.

_But at least it wasn't some random, painful problem, _he thought, trying to stay upbeat about things_, like a tail growing from his spine, or an extra arm. Though that would be helpful in Quidditch._ With this in mind, he slowly fell asleep, hoping with all his soul that they wouldn't be there tomorrow.

This state of mind did not prepare him for waking up with them still attached and blood in his underwear.


	2. Chapter 2

He noticed the continued presence of the boobs straight away – by waking up and being unable to see his feet past his chest. He didn't notice the blood until he was in the bathroom. He had gotten up, dragged his yawning self to the bathroom, cleaned his teeth then prepared to go to the loo when he saw the red serum across his pyjama bottoms.

Quite naturally, he panicked. He stared at it with horror, checked all his privates weren't ripped apart and repressed the urge to scream when he found blood all over them. Leaving his trousers part-way round his thighs, he leapt across the landing separating the bathroom from all the other rooms and through his own door. Diving for his trunk, Harry grabbed the book he had been reading the night before and flung the cover open.

If this was what the book said it was, it was sure to explain this predicament. His heart beating at a hundred miles a minute, he looked through the contents, looking for the page that he was reading yesterday. Finding it, he rushed through the book until he found the page he wanted. The book still made little sense, but Harry persevered, looking for words he could understand. Finally, he found a mention of it.

"_...suggest that children with CAH and hypospadias be assigned female to avoid penile menstruation – which may distress the child when it goes through puberty."_

_It sure was distressing,_ Harry thought viciously, slamming the book shut. _Why did it have to-_

_Creak._ The floorboard outside his bedroom creaked as someone – or something – stepped on it. Harry froze, belatedly realizing how wrong it looked for him with his pants down looking at pictures of people's privates. Another _thump _announced the ever-closing distance between whatever was outside and Harry's bedroom.

Harry madly threw the book into the trunk, which landed with a far louder _bang_ than he expected. The _thumps_ sped up as they came closer. Harry wiggled under the bedcovers and squirmed to pull his trousers up. He just managed to pull them over his crotch when the door flew open with a resounding _bang._

It was Uncle Vernon, his face puce with enragement. He was breathing heavily, not unlike a wounded elephant. He glared at Harry, piggy eyes droopy with sleep.

"What the devil are you doing, boy?"

"What do you mean?"

"All this racket! It's the crack of dawn!"

Harry supposed his diving between rooms had not been as quiet as he had thought. He wisely remained quiet.

"What were you doing in here? Practicing your magic tricks? Well I'll not have it boy! You hear me? I'll-" He suddenly stopped speaking, and looked down at Harry's bed with a mixture of shock and revulsion. Harry looked down too, and realised with a growing horror _that there was blood on his sheets_.

_Oh no..._

Harry looked back up at Uncle Vernon, only to find he had gone a pasty shade of grey. His eyes popped and his mouth gaped like a goldfish. He made several spluttering sounds. He pointed at the blood. He made several more spluttering sounds.

"Uncle Vernon-" Harry started, unsure of how he was going to explain this to him, but him speaking seemed to snap Uncle Vernon out of his trance. He closed his mouth, turned, and all but fled from the room. Harry watched him go, with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation as to what he made of all this.

He was soon to find out.

* * *

Around eight o' clock, Harry finished dressing and headed downstairs. He'd found a temporary solution to his... _problem _when he gave the bathroom a second chance. He had searched the medicine cupboard and found some thick, sticky pads which said they were "ultra absorbent". Harry had no idea if they were for periods, but they seemed to do the trick.

As he approached the kitchen, he heard heated whispering coming from behind the lounge door. It sounded like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Curious, Harry slunk stealthily to the door and put his ear to it.

"-we can't just _leave _it, Petunia!"

"I can't see why not."

"The boy-" At his mention, Harry pressed his ear closer to the door. "-might seriously hurt himself, and imagine what would happen then!"

"What do you think would happen, Vernon?"

"What if he _dies_ and- and _your sister's lot _blame us? What will we do then, Petunia?"

There was silence for a while. The sofa springs squeaked as someone sat down it. When they spoke again, Harry had to strain his ears they were so quiet.

"Look, Petunia, they _told _us he would be grieving over that Digger boy-"

"Diggory, Vernon."

"Yes, him- and they told us to tell them if the boy started to- well-"

"Self-harm?"

"Yes! We can't just ignore it, or we'll face the consequences. Remember what happened to Dudley?"

"I remember it fully, Vernon."

"We have to contact them, somehow, tell them that- that-"

"We'll have to tell them about what's happening."

"Yes. Did they tell you how to contact them?"

"I have an address I can post a letter to."

"The normal way?"

"Yes. Perhaps they'll even take the boy with them-" Harry had heard enough. Pushing himself from the wall, he strode up the hall and entered the kitchen.

Pulling down bowls and spoons from the cupboards, Harry replayed the conversation in his mind. _So Uncle Vernon thought he was self-harming because of Cedric?_

Thinking of it, it was the most plausible explanation that a man such as Uncle Vernon could think of. Harry couldn't really blame the man for thinking that – it's not every day you see a man with period stains on his sheets. And seeing as Cedric had only died a few weeks ago... it was only natural for Uncle Vernon to put two and two together and get five.

Pushing down the swell of memories at the mention of Cedric's name, he reached into the lower cupboards to search for cereal. He mind reeled as he reached for something that, hopefully, wasn't bran flakes.

Why had Dumbledore asked the Dursleys to keep an eye out for that sort of behaviour? If he did... _harm_ himself, he would rather prefer to keep it to himself. It was no business of his what Harry did in his summer.

Did Dumbledore not _trust_ him enough not to do something stupid? Was his privacy of little value to him? Or did Dumbledore think that the "Boy-Who-Lived" had no need for privacy, and had to live to save the world?

He banged the cereal box on the table with more force than was necessary. Dudley waddled in at the sound, as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came in through the living room door. Dudley smirked at him, waiting for the verbal berating Harry would get from Uncle Vernon for making so much noise.

But he was to be disappointed. Uncle Vernon merely looked at him, grunted something unintelligible, and walked over to the coffee machine. Aunt Petunia's eyes darted from his face to his wrists several times before sitting down at the table. Through his mist of anger, Harry wished he had not worn a long sleeved shirt today. He then got the milk and also sat down.

Dudley looked as if someone had told him Christmas had been cancelled. He turned his head between them all, mouth agape, before venturing to say something.

"Dad-"

"Just sit down and eat your cereal, son." Uncle Vernon cut across him, walking with his coffee to the table and reaching for the milk, averting his gaze from Harry. Dudley looked as if Uncle Vernon had slapped him, but as his father sat down, he too slowly lowered himself into the remaining chair.

It was to be one of the most awkward breakfasts that Harry had ever known. No-one spoke. Uncle Vernon vanished behind the newspaper as soon as it arrived. Aunt Petunia nibbled at her breakfast, often looking at Harry out of the corner of her eye. Dudley poked at his cereal dejectedly. Harry ate his mechanically, leaving his anger to bubble and roil until he left the table and arrived back in his room.

With an almighty grunt of rage, Harry flung his foot at the nearest item. Dudley's old book of fairy tales sailed across the room and landed among his dirty laundry. He lashed out again, and Dudley's broken air rifle skittered across the room. He continued to throw and kick things around the room, anger slowly dissipating until he lifted an old pillow and threw it at the window-

-only for it to hit Hedwig, who had flown in unnoticed by Harry. She hooted indignantly as she toppled backwards and lay spread eagled on his desk.

Any anger he felt vanished and was replaced with guilt. Harry all but ran over to her to check for injuries he may have caused. Hedwig straightened herself up and looked at Harry with reproachful eyes, and pecked at the finger Harry extended in apology. It was quickly retracted.

"Look, Hedwig, I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't mean to." Harry tried reaching out again, only for Hedwig to turn her head and stick out her leg. Harry noticed the scroll attached to it immediately. He untied it, and Hedwig soon flew back out the window, cuffing Harry on the back of his head with her wing.

Rubbing his head and promising to fuss over her later, Harry sat down and opened the scroll, laying it on his lap.

_Hi Harry!_

_Hope the Muggles aren't giving you a hard time. Been so boring here. Hermione's arrived though - she says hi, by the way – so I have someone to speak to (and nag me about my work!). Can't say much in this letter though – Dumbledore says the owls could be intercepted, and Hedwig's pretty recognizable. Mum's been trying to persuade him to let you come here, but he hasn't given in yet. Hope to see you sometime this summer, anyway – perhaps at Diagon Alley?_

_Hope to see you soon!_

_Ron_

So, according to Dumbledore, the world could know about Harry Potter, but he couldn't know about the world. _How nice_, he thought. _I'm just supposed to blindly trust like a good little pet._

_But at least I might soon get some answers_, he reasoned. Aunt Petunia was supposed to write to them about his "self-harm" – perhaps he'd decide to take him from the Dursleys in an attempt to cheer him up.

Harry screwed up the letter and threw it at the wall. _I bet he'll be here in a week, if he comes at all,_ he thought.

He guessed five days late.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a hot Tuesday morning when they arrived. Harry was out in the garden, relaxing in Aunt Petunia's begonias. The woman in question was inside, vacuuming the living room, the monotonous buzzing flowing through the open window. The other occupants of the house were nowhere to be seen.

Harry kicked at the dry soil beneath his feet and looked up at the clear blue sky. The sunlight bit harshly into the corner of his eye, and he squinted against it. The dying begonias around him smelt strong, and Harry wished there was another place outside where he could get utmost privacy. But there wasn't, and if he were to stand any chance of avoiding the watching eyes of Privet Drive, he had to stay put.

He had been lying there for almost an hour, gazing at the sky and peering through the flowers at passersby and neighbours. He noticed the woman next door had already broken the hosepipe ban twice this morning and that Mrs Figg was looking for someone, or something.

Harry had thought of going up to help her find whatever it was – she was a nice enough woman who had kept him company when he were younger – but she went in and out of her house so many times Harry hadn't been able to ask. Speaking of the woman, she had just re-entered the house, looking worried and harried. Harry watched her go through her conservatory and through a door to the rest of the house, mildly curious as to what she was looking for.

_Ah well,_ he thought, turning his head back to the sky. _It's nothing to do wi- Woah!_ For instead of seeing the sky, Harry's eyes met the jowls of a large black dog.

Harry sat bolt upright, narrowly missing the window above him. The dog took a few steps back. Staring at the dog, Harry recognized the striking grey eyes almost instantaneously.

"Sirius!"

Sirius gave him a lopsided, tongue-lolling grin, tail wagging madly behind him. He let Harry pet him for a while, before indicating his head at the Dursley's front door – a clear message of _lets go inside_.

Harry hesitated, for he knew Aunt Petunia would kill him if she caught Sirius inside her nice clean house, but it had been so _long _since they had spoken face to face... Harry's longing overrode overrode his hesitation, and he rose from the plant bed, ducked under the window and went to the door. He checked whether Aunt Petunia was engrossed in her vacuuming, and when he saw that she was, Harry ushered Sirius upstairs, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

_Creak_. Sirius accidentally stood on the loose floorboard. They both froze, hearts punding, ears sharp for any sound of danger. The vacuum downstairs stopped. A sharp _tap tap tap _resounded as Aunt Petunia walked closer to the stairs. Then the vacuum sounded again and Harry let out a sharp exhale of breath. He lead Sirius to his bedroom with no further incident.

He turned to close the door, and when he turned back Sirius the wizard stood there, half-shaven and in robes that might've seen better days. He opened his arms and Harry stepped into them gratefully and embraced the man, breathing in the scent of stale whiskey on his robes.

They untangled after a while, and Harry beamed at him, before the repercussions of Sirius' appearance hit Harry like a cart-horse and he stepped back, frowning slightly.

"Sirius, what are you doing here? You could be caught!"

"I had to see you," Sirius replied, sitting down on the edge of Harry's bed and tugging Harry's wrists so they sat side by side. "Harry, I came as soon as I heard what had happened from Dumbledore. Oh, why did you not say?" Harry remained silent, utterly bewildered. Sirius carried on.

"I should've seen the signs, Harry! How could I not see what you were feeling in your letters? I knew you were grieving over Cedric, but I didn't realise how bad it was!" Sirius started rubbing soothing circles on Harry's wrists. Harry looked down at his wrists and suddenly it all fell into place.

"Sirius, stop worrying! It isn't what you think it is!"

"Harry, your relatives sent us a letter, that's how worried they were! Your uncle walked in on you- you-" Sirius cut off and looked away.

"Sirius, seriously, I haven't been self-harming. Look at my wrists, Sirius."

"I-"

"Look at them." Sirius turned and looked, and for the first time saw the unmarked flesh of Harry's bony wrists. His mouth fell open as he turned them over and over in his hands.

"But- your relatives- Dumbledore-"

"They got it wrong, Sirius. It was a simple mistake on Uncle Vernon's part."

"Then what did they see?" Harry looked away. Sirius frowned, and recommenced his wrist rubbing. "Harry?"

Harry remained silent.

"Harry, look at me." When Harry's eyes remained glued to the floor, Sirius took hold of his chin and slowly guided the eyes to his.

"Harry, whatever you will say to me will not shock me or stop me from speaking to you. I have been in Azkaban for twelve years, and after seeing grown men break down, other prisoners go mad and watching as they waste to nothing, I don't believe there is much that can shock me. Now tell me, _what did they see_?"

With great difficulty, Harry slowly lifted his bed covers and showed Sirius the blood stain. Sirius looked at it for a while, before turning back to Harry. "What caused this, Harry?"

Without a word, Harry rose and lifted his shirt over his head, leaving his chest bare and revealing his newly discovered breasts to Sirius. Harry looked at him, who stared back with a face reminiscent of a goldfish.

"Ah."

* * *

After the initial shock had been overcome, Sirius was quite accepting, holding him close once he put his shirt back on and seeing what Harry had found out about his condition. Harry told him everything he had read from the book. After hearing that it could mean Harry may be biologically female, Sirius held up his hand for him to pause.

"Harry, if you're biologically female, do I refer to you as a he or a she?"

"She. He. I don't know!" He punched the pillow beside him. Sirius watched him sympathetically.

"Harry, perhaps if we spoke to Dumbledore-"

"No, I'm not going to Dumbledore." The room temperature in the room seemed to have dropped a few degrees. Sirius looked at him, bemused.

"Harry-"

"No Sirius. I'm not going to Dumbledore."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Why not?" Harry got up and paced up and down the room. "Well, perhaps it's because he hasn't the decency to let anyone tell me what going on in the wizarding world! Perhaps it because he doesn't trust me enough not to do something stupid, and gets someone to spy on me to make sure I don't do it! Or maybe it's because he expects me to trust him _blindly _like a good little pet and kill Voldemort for him!"

"He really does care for you, Harry." Harry turned on him, fury blazing in his eyes.

"If her really cared, Sirius, then why does he insist on keeping me ignorant to important information? Who's supposed to kill Voldemort? Me! How am I supposed to do that when _he_ won't tell me two coppers worth of information? Do you know how it feels, to have the whole world peering in your life like you're some interesting insect knowing anything they want, when you can't have the same right?"

"Yes I do." Harry paused, and just looked at him, breathing heavily. "As soon as I set foot in Azkaban, the world was upon me. They wanted to know who I was, where were my friends, how did I 'get in with Voldemort', who I used to date... It's horrible Harry, and I understand that, but some things are for a good reason."

Harry just stared at him for a while, anger drained from him, leaving him tired. Without conscious thought, He sat back down on the bed and gripped Sirius' hand tightly in his own. "I should've thought. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. What's done is done."

"I'm still not telling Dumbledore."

"But-"

"It's too soon, Sirius. I need time to think." Sirius smiled sadly, and squeezed Harry's hand tightly in his own.

The moment would've been nice if the doorbell had not rung in the middle of it. Curious, Harry left the bed and looked out the window, trying to discern who the visitor was. It was only a few seconds before he realised who it was and turned back to Sirius with panic in his eyes, all colour drained from his face.

"It's Dumbledore."


	4. Chapter 4

The two men stared at each other in utmost panic. They heard Aunt Petunia's vacuum being turned off, and the _tap tap tap _of her shoes as she walked her way to the front door. The squeak of hinges sounded, and voices filled the downstairs hallway.

"Good morning, Petunia."

"You're here to see the boy, then?"

"If I may."

"You could've if he hadn't gone for a walk about two hours ago."

"Did he now?"

"He did."

"Arabella Figg told me she saw the boy enter the house around half an hour ago with a black dog."

"A _dog_?"

"Yes. But no matter. I have a few things I would like to speak to you about first." They heard Aunt Petunia's shoes tap on the floor and re-enter the living room, followed by the soft shuffle of Dumbledore's soft-clad feet. Hearing them leave the hall, Sirius got up, ashen.

"Harry, _Dumbledore can't know I'm here_. He told me not to come, but I _had _to see you- Oh hell, if Arabella saw a black dog, Dumbledore's _bound_ to realise it's me... Oh damnit all!" He fidgeted on the spot, turning this way and that, and wringing his hands. Harry's mind was still reeling from the revelation that Dumbledore knew Mrs Figg.

"Hang on, Dumbledore knows Mrs Figg?"

"Well, yes, she's a Squib. Known her for about fifteen years now. Dumbledore asked her to keep an eye on you... Didn't anyone tell you that?"

"Never."

"Well... never mind about that for now. What are you going to tell Dumbledore?"

"Nothing."

"He's not going to accept that as an answer."

"I'll tell him it's just a misunderstanding and leave it at that."

"He won't leave until you say what it is."

"Then I won't speak to him."

"You can't exactly remain silent. That just seals your fate."

"Then he won't be able see me."

"What, you'll lock him out of your room? I highly doubt that will work."

"No. I just won't be here when he arrives."

"What-" But suddenly it all fell into place for Sirius, his mouth changed into a perfect 'O'. "Harry, you're not going to _run away_."

Harry didn't reply. He turned away from Sirius and pulled a large rucksack from the pile of Dudley's old junk. He then started to reach into his trunk and pack whatever he needed – wand, robes, Muggle clothing, his Gringotts key, parchment, quills, underwear, ink, socks...

"Harry, you can't run away from Dumbledore." Sirius laughed from his position on the bed. Harry ignored him, now packing things of value to him. The Marauders Map went in, along with the photo album Hagrid had once given him, the green dragon jumper from Mrs Weasley and the odd socks from Dobby. He picked up Dudley's book of fairy tales and put that in too – as a reminder of what he was leaving. It was only when Sirius watched Harry pack the magical penknife he himself had got him that he realised Harry was completely serious about leaving.

"Oh hell, Harry... Please think this through! Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore had people _spying_ on me yet he failed to notice I was worked like a _slave_ for the first eleven years of my life! Or he noticed, but decided to _leave _me there anyway!" Harry interrupted. He took out his Broomstick Servicing Kit and clipped the compass to his broomstick, before laying the broom back into its corner.

"What am I supposed to tell him when he comes up here and finds me but no you?"

"Just say I ran, and you didn't get anything out of me before I left."

"Lie? Harry, I can't lie to him! I owe my life to that man!"

"Say I'm gone. Omit details." Harry zipped up his rucksack and heaved it onto his back. He decided to leave most of his books here – he could buy more at a later date. Hedwig's cage was empty. She spent most of her time flying, still angry at Harry for throwing a pillow at her, and adamantly refused to be bribed to forgiveness with Owl Treats. _She'll find me,_ he thought to himself.

"But-" Seeing that anything to do with Dumbledore wasn't going to persuade him, Sirius tried a different tactic. "What about your friends, then? The Weasleys? Ron? Hermione?"

"I'll keep in contact by owl."

"What about me?" This was said quietly and sadly, and Harry turned at the tone of voice. Sirius looked balefully up at him, grey eyes full of worry. This sight almost caused Harry to give up his escapade and stay with Sirius, but he strengthened his resolve and just clapped his hand on Sirius' bony shoulder.

"You'll see me around." They stared at each other for a while. Sirius' shoulders slumped in defeat. The noises downstairs took their attention – Dumbledore had finished speaking to Petunia. Harry, knowing time was short, grabbed his beloved Firebolt from the corner of the room. He opened the window, but before he could climb out of it, Sirius grabbed his arm.

"Harry, please, promise me-"

The soft shuffle of Dumbledore's feet came through the downstairs hall.

"-that you will stay safe-"

Aunt Petunia's shoes clacked against the stairs as she ascended.

"-and you'll think rationally-"

_Creak_. Dumbledore stood on the creaky step.

"-and that you won't forget about us."

"I promise." Sirius hugged him tightly, and Harry returned it with full force, fighting down the swell of emotions which rose in him. They pulled apart just as they heard voices outside the door.

"It's this one on the left."

"Thank you, Petunia."

Harry untangled himself from Sirius and clambered onto the windowsill. Lifting his cloak from his bedside table, he flung it over himself. He threw his leg over his Firebolt and kicked off, just as the door to his room opened. As he zoomed away through the cloudless sky, he faintly heard part of the conversation in his bedroom.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

"...He's gone."

* * *

Harry had been flying for almost an hour now. The sun burnt bright in the sky, and there was neither wind nor clouds to speak of, so the only coolant Harry had was the drag of the air on him as he sped through the sky.

He had formulated a simple plan as he flew – get to Diagon Alley, get some money from Gringotts and find somewhere to stay. He could figure out the rest when he was rested.

He knew London was roughly north from Little Whinging, so that's the direction he flew, looking at the compass on his broom as often as was possible. But although the exhilaration of flying gripped him like his clothes, Harry still wished he were back on flat ground. His period, although lighter than it was at the start, made his privates sore and painful to sit on. However, he persevered until the sprawling city of London was visible beneath his feet.

He scanned the buildings below him until he spotted the huge glass dome of the train station. Harry knew his way from here to Diagon Alley, and so, staying far above the city, he looked for a hiding place. He quickly spotted a dark alley and dived for it, speeding before he pulled up and tottered to a halt.

Harry lifted himself from his broom and allowed his privates some well needed respite from the hardness of his broom. Then, once the pain had receded into a dull ache, he set out into the busy Muggle street.

He didn't dare remove his Invisibility Cloak – he knew that Dumbledore would be looking for him, and he didn't want to be stopped on his way to Diagon Alley. He slipped and strode through the crowded streets, ducking past signs and diving into empty spaces, all the while looking over his shoulder, trying to see whether Dumbledore had placed anyone on his trail. He couldn't see anyone.

Soon enough, he reached the Leaky Cauldron. Slipping inside, he dodged the patrons, almost upset a barmaid with a tray of drinks and crashed headlong into something which looked like a hairy version of Hagrid – whatever it was, luckily, didn't seem to register anyone walking into it, so Harry made it to the wall in one piece. He tapped the proper bricks, and soon was wandering the streets of Diagon Alley.

The towering shops and brightly coloured taverns welcomed Harry with a cheerful air, causing him to grin despite his situation. He made his way to Gringotts, looking around him like a thirsty man in an oasis, drinking in all the sights and sounds.

As he came further in, he started to recognize some of the faces. Neville Longbottom first, with an severe-looking old woman, then Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, who were staring in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies with unsuppressed glee, Cho (who still gave him butterflies) and a few of her friends in Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions...

The good mood Diagon Alley had thrust upon him vanished as quickly as it had come. With each familiar face, Harry's heart sank further into the pit of his stomach as his old fears arose – how _was _he supposed to go to Hogwarts with his new almost-female body? Would they be ok to have a roommate with breasts and bloodied underwear? Could he even go _back _to Hogwarts like this?

His feelings only worsened when he saw Ron and Hermione in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, each attacking a mound of ice-cream with fevor. He had to force himself to walk by them, not to greet them, not to hug them and never let go...

He squashed the wave of guilt that threatened to overwhelm him, and carried on. The white building of Gringotts towered over him like a disappointed parent. The guilt returned, but he wrestled it back. But he wasn't prepared for the swell of pure fear that appeared when he saw who was on the steps of Gringotts.

Severus Snape stood there, looking around. Looking for something. Looking for _him_.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry stood paralyzed in the middle of the street. He should've thought his plan out better; Diagon Alley would be the first place Dumbledore would look for him. And since most of his contacts would be able to Apparate... any contact of Dumbledore would've arrived earlier than him. Meaning staying anywhere near Diagon Alley would be a sure-fire way of getting caught.

He watched Snape's black eyes scout the crowd. Panic rose inside him as Snape's eyes came ever closer to him, until realised something – Snape wouldn't see him, he was invisible! He could've kicked himself for his idiocy. Walking forward, Harry tagged along with a gaggle of witches who were also going to Gringotts. As they opened and went through the door, Harry tip-toed past Snape and dived inside, the door almost trapping his foot as it closed behind him.

Once inside, Harry pulled his Cloak off his body and stuffed it in his pocket. His sudden appearance startled the witches beside him, but he paid them no heed as he walked quickly to the front desk. He wanted this over as quickly as possible so he could plan some more and escape the prying eyes of Dumbledore, and whatever cronies he had sent out to retrieve him.

There was a short queue in front of him and it was only as he joined the queue that he saw another recognizable face – Remus Lupin. Harry almost called out to him, before thinking that Dumbledore was still looking for him, and Lupin might be there to find him. He quickly ducked to one side of the queue, hiding his lithe body behind the stomach of a rotund old wizard.

The queue could not move fast enough for him. The old wizard in front of him seemed to take eons to find his key within the vast folds of his robes, but soon enough he waddled off to his vault and it was Harry's turn to be scrutinized by the goblin on the podium in front of him.

"Vault 687, please." Harry said quietly, so his voice wouldn't carry over to Lupin. He pulled his key from his rucksack and held it out to the goblin. The goblin examined it down his long, pointed nose for what seemed like hours, making Harry squirm with impatience. But soon enough he deemed it acceptable, gave it back to Harry and sent him to his vault with a goblin called Ralk. As he left, he swore Lupin's eyes followed him into the dark, passage that led to the carts.

They clambered into the Gringotts cart and soon they were speeding past stalagmites and stalactites, underground lakes and damp walls covered in greenery. The cart swerved and skittered across the tracks until they came to a halt in front of vault number 687. Harry clambered out on weak knees, never used to the wild ride of Gringotts carts. Ralk the goblin tugged the key from Harry's loose hand and opened the vault doors, then stood to the side as Harry regained control of his shaking limbs.

When inside, Harry scooped as much gold as he could into his pockets and bag. He didn't know when he would be able to get back, so he took enough to keep him comfortable for a month at least. Once he finished, he turned back to the cart and in a few blinks he was back standing in the foyer of Gringotts bank.

Looking around, Harry noticed that Lupin had vanished from his old watch post and was nowhere to be seen. This unsettled Harry – perhaps Lupin _had_ seen him go to his vault and had called Dumbledore. Perhaps he was waiting outside with Snape...

Thinking Dumbledore would be outside, his wish of being in and out as quickly as possible died, and it was replaced by the hope he could wait them out in Gringotts. So Harry endeavoured to be as long as possible in wizarding bank. He dawdled in the foyer for a while. He joined a queue to exchange Wizard currency to Muggle currency. He changed about half of the money he got from his vault into twenty and ten pound notes. He dawdled some more in the foyer. It was only when he really couldn't stay any longer (lest he look suspicious) that he pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head and headed to the doors. He waited for a small family of four to open the door for him before slipping out himself.

The once blue sky had clouded over, and it threatened to rain. Not ideal conditions for flying anywhere, but Harry couldn't stay here. Not with Dumbledore expecting him to be here. Not with his spies all over the place.

Talking of spies, Snape still stood on the steps. Lupin was to his right, speaking in low tones. His belief that Lupin had called Dumbledore here seemed to be false, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He edged forward to eavesdrop on their conversation, lest it give him any clue whether Lupin was on the hunt for Harry too.

"...swear it was Harry, Severus. He looked exactly like him!"

"Perhaps it was him. Why did you not raise the alarm?"

"I couldn't be sure. I only saw his back and a glimpse of his face. I wanted to check to see if you saw him enter."

"If I saw him, I would've raised the alarm, although it would be highly likely that Potter would've entered Gringotts under that infernal Cloak of his."

"So you didn't see him enter?"

"Strangely enough Lupin, people under Invisibility Cloaks are _invisible_."

"I was only asking."

_So Dumbledore did ask him to find me_, Harry thought to himself. He went to move away. Seconds too late, Harry saw Lupin step out into his path-

_Crunch_. Lupin walked straight into Harry's invisible form. The force of the two colliding pushed them both over, leaving them sprawled on the floor. Snape turned at the commotion, and spotted the one thing that had slipped from under the Invisibility Cloak during the fall – the handle of Harry's Firebolt.

Harry tugged it back under the Cloak, but the damage was done. Lupin and Snape exchanged unreadable looks, before Snape bent down and grasped the Cloak.

_No, I'm not ready to be caught yet!_

Snape removed the Cloak, and as he did so, Harry darted between his legs and dived into the crowd, leaving his beloved Cloak in the hands of its remover. He heard yells from behind him, and knew he didn't have much of a head start. He darted between wizards and witches, jumping into empty spaces and pushing his way through when he couldn't find space.

There were twin yells of 'Harry?' as he passed Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He looked back and saw Ron and Hermione, risen from their seats and looking at him in shock. Harry watched their eyes travel to Snape and Lupin, who were only a few metres behind him.

_Only a few metres..._

He quickened his pace.

He tore past Quality Quidditch Supplies, where Dean and Seamus watched him go with bewilderment etched on their faces. He sprinted past Cho and her friends, who stared at him, giggling madly. He shot past Neville and his grandmother, almost knocking him off his feet. He often looked behind him to try and spot his pursuers, only to see them always a few metres behind him, doggedly following his path.

The crowds became harder to traverse as more and more people realised what was going on, and tried to stop them. Harry couldn't tell whether they were trying to stop him or trying to stop Snape and Lupin, who were having as much trouble with the crowds as he was.

"_Locomotor Mortis!_"

The first spell of the race hit the stones beside Harry's foot. He looked behind him, and saw Snape's wand outstretched, and Lupin reaching for his own-

"_Incarcerous!_"

Harry had to dodge this one, so hit the wall beside his head him with a shower of gold sparks. He wished that he could use magic outside of school so he could at least try to block them. Unfortunately it was a disadvantage that he couldn't change, and an advantage the two behind him were abusing.

"_Levicorpus!"_

"_Rictusempra!_"

Harry jumped, and the two spells collided beneath his feet. The blast threw him forward several metres, depositing him unceremoniously on his stomach. His heart was beating painfully against his chest, but he scrambled back to his feet and carried on running.

The archway revealing the way out of Diagon Alley appeared before him, and Harry pushed his way through the crowd towards it. Spells were fired around him, but Harry didn't notice them, so focused on the archway to his freedom.

There were flashes all around him as he got to the chilly courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry threw himself through the door and ran flat out through the pub, Snape and Lupin following close behind. He ran out the Muggle door, where the streets were quieter, and Lupin and Snape couldn't fire at him.

It didn't stop the chase though. Mere seconds after he left the pub, both men tumbled out behind him, and followed him. Now free from the oppressing crowds of Diagon Alley, Snape and Lupin were catching up. They were five metres away- no, four- now three-

Harry hurtled down an alley at last minute, while Snape and Lupin ran past. It didn't take long for them to realise their mistake and the doubled back to the alley where Harry was.

But this mistake had cost them their chance at catching him. In the time it took them to double back, Harry had swung one leg over his broom. As Snape and Lupin ran towards him, Harry kicked off, and left the men to watch him helplessly as he slowly vanished into the cloud-filled sky.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry was definitely in trouble now.

He had no time to think of the repercussions of his actions when he had kicked off from the dark, dingy alley. All he knew was that he had to get away from there as soon as possible. No longer was he going at a slow pace, checking his compass for the direction. He was, according to the one time he looked at his compass, going west at a speed he had never gone before, and hoping that he would soon be calm enough to dip below the clouds and see where he was.

It was a completely different ride to the one he had to London. To London, Harry went slower than the Muggle cars on the road and it was a nice flight, bar his privates stinging like crazy. This time he knew that no normal car would be going on the road at the speed he was, and his flight through the clouds left him soaked to the bone. He was cold, his entire body ached, his privates burnt harshly, and all he wanted to do was land.

But he couldn't. He didn't know where he was, where to land, and what to do next. The only thing he seemed pretty certain of was that he'd been travelling about an hour – the same time it took him to reach London, but he was further away from London than the Dursleys were, looking at his speed.

He finally plucked up the courage to dive into the cloud bed beneath him. It was as cold and wet and grey as it was the first time he went into it. The world came into clear focus, sprawled out beneath him as he left the cloud. Soaking and shivering, he looked wildly left and right, searching desperately for a landmark.

It wasn't long before he found one – a huge circle of stones came into his field of vision. _Stonehenge_, his primary school education supplied. Had he really flown that far? He supposed in his panic he hadn't realised just how far he'd travelled. Spotting a village to his left, Harry dived for it, and landed on his knees on the dark, damp floor of a nearby forest.

It was only as he lay there, getting his breath back, that it finally hit him. He had flown on his broom. In front of a city _full _of Muggles. _Without his Invisibility Cloak_.

Did any Muggles see him? If they did, it was going to make his attempts to hide an awful lot harder. The Ministry would have to Obliviate them, and he supposed they wouldn't be too happy with him for causing the disruption. Would the Ministry be on his tail?

If they were, he would never be able to go back to Hogwarts.

Hiding away under his Invisibility Cloak wasn't an option anymore, having left the Cloak in the hands of Snape. He had to think of something, and fast. He couldn't use magic. He wanted to go to Hogwarts. He couldn't be caught. He needed a fool-proof, non-magical way to hide in plain sight.

Harry wished Hedwig were here. He could either mail Sirius for an idea, or bounce ideas off her. She was smart. She'd show if she disapproved of something. She-

_Wait..._

Harry looked down at his chest. An idea formulated in his mind, an idea so far-fetched, so stupid, it might just work...

What if he disguised himself as a girl?

It could work- it _would_ work! Harry had all the necessary appendages to pull it off. All he needed to make sure was that no-one saw him without his underwear on. It would be amazing if it worked. He had some Muggle money from his trip to Gringotts, so he could easily go into the town nearby and buy some clothes. Dumbledore would never suspect. He could even go to Hogwarts, under the guise of a transfer student! He could get Sorted again, have a start without the childish grudge from Snape, be with Ron and Hermione again-

_Ron and Hermione_... There was the flaw in the plan. If they didn't know, if Harry never told them, Harry would have to befriend them all over again. If they knew, they would tell Dumbledore almost immediately. That is, if they believed that their friend was a girl. He wanted to tell them so badly, yet he didn't want Dumbledore to know.

_It was the only plan that might work_, he told himself. He had deal with the flaw. No matter how much it hurt, he had to decide between them knowing and Dumbledore not knowing. But it wasn't a decision to be made now.

Right now, he had to look the part. And to look the part, he had to buy girls clothes. Harry sighed. He hid his Firebolt in a nearby tree, picked himself from the floor, and headed out of the trees to the town beyond.

* * *

Two hours later found Harry in a rather large clothes shop. He was currently staring bemusedly at a large shelf-full of bras, which supposedly would support his new breasts. Harry had no idea how they worked – only that he needed one, and the sizes confused him.

It was completely different sizing to the clothes. Those he could figure out, no problem – smaller the number, smaller the clothes. These..._ monstrosities_ had letters and numbers all over the place. For example, thirty-four B's were dwarfed by thiry-four double-D's, which were in turn dwarfed by thirty-eight A's.

It was utterly bamboozling. He'd managed to figure out every other size clothes, what went with what, everything he needed for his monthly red problem (Harry hesitated between pads and tampons, until realizing if he had tampons he'd have to stick them up his manhood. Something which did not sound pleasant), even what different types of make-up did. But this completely stumped him.

"Do you want any help?" A young worker had come over to him, obviously seeing his perplexity.

"Err... Yeah." Harry replied, scratching the back of his head, thanking everyone he knew that his voice had not broken. "Well... you see... erm..."

"You haven't bought one for your girlfriend before?"

"What? No! I'm single... It's for me." The girl's eyes widened at the realisation.

"Oh! It's your first bra! Sorry, I thought you were a boy! I'm so sorry!"

"It's ok, don't worry!" Harry tried to placate the girl. "Everyone mistakes me all the time..." It seemed to have done the trick. The girl calmed herself, although she still looked guilty.

"Ok... What's your name?"

"Harry," He said without thinking, and almost immediately kicked himself for it. He needed a girl's name! But the girl in front of him didn't seem to notice, tilting her head to the side.

"Short for Harriet, right?"

"Err... Yeah." Harry quickly grabbed on to the lifeline thrown to him, and the girl seemed to believe him.

"Well, Harry, why don't you step in the dressing room, and I'll get you measured up." She grabbed a tape measure and a sheet from a nearby desk. "That way."

They made their way to the dressing rooms. After pulling the curtain across, the girl turned to Harry. It was uncomfortably cramped.

"Right, if you just take of your shirt-"

"What?"

"That's how we measure them." The girl seemed to have infinite patience as he slowly removed his shirt, feeling very exposed. "Right, arms up!"

It was all over within a few seconds. The girl pulled the tape round his ribcage, then round the boobs themselves. It was very cold, but soon enough Harry could put his shirt back on and the girl showed him what he needed.

"Right, you're a thirty-two C, so you'll need the bras from these rows-" She pointed to three separate rows. "Those are lingerie, those are your normal t-shirt bras and those are the special ones, like strapless and backless. Got it?"

Harry nodded. The girl, satisfied she had done her job, went back to her desk. Harry looked at the bras again, and decided just to take a few of them all. He took all his purchases – not only the bras, but the clothes, make-up and shoes he had picked out – to the cashier and paid for them all.

He left the shop with bulging bags of goods. How he was going to fit this in his rucksack he didn't know. He resolved to clear out the clothes he already had in his bag. But first, if he didn't want to look like Harry Potter, he needed a haircut and new glasses.

He visited the barbers first. His hair had grown over the summer, so he had almost free reign over what he chose. He ended up going for chin-length hair with a straight fringe, something completely different that would hopefully remove a little of his recognisability.

He then went to an opticians, a private one by the looks of it. The glasses were all quite expensive, but the store owner assured him that they were of high quality, and could be made by the end of the day, if he so desired. Harry did want them as soon as possible, so after selecting a new pair of glasses – a black wide-set pair – he paid the man and left, making a mental note to come back for them later.

All in all, Harry felt the shopping trip had been quite successful. He rented a room above a small, homely pub, not dissimilar to the Leaky Cauldron, and after moving all his stuff to the small room (and managing to somehow sneak back to the wood, retrieve his Firebolt and sneak it past the hawk-eyed landlady), he lay relaxed on his bed. His tiredness from carrying all his new items washed over him.

He vaguely checked his watch – two o' clock. He had been on the run for five hours. He hadn't been caught. He outrun two grown adults. He was going to be a girl. The sheer impossibility of the situation made Harry laugh softly.

But the calmness of the room was soon to be shattered by a few taps on the window. Hedwig had found Harry, and tied to her leg was a letter and a small, nondescript parcel.


	7. Chapter 7

Ecstasy. That was the first emotion Harry felt as soon as he saw his beloved owl outside the window. His face split into a wide grin, and he quickly pulled his body from the bed, all fatigue vanishing at the sight of someone he knew. Hedwig fluttered in as soon as he pulled the window up and open, and gave him a miserable look, not at all happy at him since he left her at Privet Drive.

"Worried, girl?" Hedwig gave a sad hoot. Harry, feeling slightly guilty, fussed her for a few minutes, until Hedwig seemed to cheer up. She cooed in thanks, before sticking out her leg, and it was then Harry's happiness at seeing Hedwig slid off him like cold sweat.

He eyed the parcel with distrust. The only people it could be from were the ones he was trying to run from. Was the item a Portkey? Was this an attempt to get him back? Would he be whisked back to Dumbledore's feet as soon as he opened the package?

_No,_ Harry thought to himself. _It must be something safe, or Hedwig wouldn't have brought it._ Some may call him crazy for believing in his owl, but Harry knew Hedwig well. She was smart. She'd rather peck someone to death than take something potentially dangerous to Harry.

Rather certain it wasn't anything dangerous, Harry gingerly peeled back the wrapping and tape. Inside, there was a small, handheld mirror and a note, rolled into a small tube. Harry read the note first, unravelling it against his palm.

_Harry-_

_I hope you're alright – I heard of your escapade in Diagon Alley! No one seems to know where you are now, though, which is probably good news on your end. The mirror I've sent you is a two way mirror. I have the other one. Just call my name and I'll answer as soon as I can. Please use it as soon as you get it – I have a number of things I need to discuss with you which I can't put in this letter._

_Take care,_

_Sirius_

Harry had a small smile by the end of the letter. At last he could speak to a friend – to his godfather! Although he had been running for only a little while, it was good to know within all the uncertainty he still had someone to talk to. He picked up the mirror, and spoke Sirius' name. The mirror fogged up, but soon he heard his godfather's whispering _"Give me a second, Harry."_

Harry waited, and soon enough, Sirius' face popped into view in the reflective surface.

"Harry! How- Merlin's beard! What's happened to your hair?" Harry patted his head self-consciously.

"I had it cut. Part of my disguise."

"Disguise... You've already got one?"

"Yeah."

"What are you disguised as?"

"A woman." Sirius spluttered on the other end of the mirror. "Don't laugh, Sirius! It's the best idea I have right now."

"Fine." Sirius said, grinning. "What name are you going under?"

"Harriet, according to a shop worker down the road."

"That's a bit obvious, isn't it?"

"Well, if I call myself Harriet, I can explain myself if I accidentally say my name is Harry."

"Clever, Harry, very clever. You better get practicing calling yourself a 'she' then."

Harry smiled, before he- _she now, Harry!_ - changed the subject. "You said you needed to talk to me about something."

Sirius grew sombre. "Yes. I was going to discuss a disguise with you first, but seeing as you've sorted that... What about your education?"

"Can't I apply to go as a female transfer student?"

"No- wait yes- hang on, no..." Sirius' frowned in concentration. "I suppose you could..."

"But?"

"You'd need all the forms, proving who you are and where you're from. Then they check it against the country's register of magical births."

His- _her!_ - face fell. "Which I won't be on."

"No, but there is another way."

"How?"

"We could declare you as a late-bloomer."

"A _what_?"

"Late-bloomer. Someone who got their magic late, like at fourteen instead of seven or eight."

"Oh! Wouldn't that be on the register?"

"No. If you don't show magic by ten or eleven, they'll mark you as Squib. No-one keeps tabs on Squibs."

"So if I said I had come into my magic, say, last year, I could go?"

"Yes. You'd have to say someone taught you enough magic to enter the year, though."

"Who can I say?"

"Hmm..." Sirius scratched his chin. "I could pretend to be your guardian, if you wanted me to."

"Yes, that would be nice! But won't Dumbledore recognize you?"

"I'll disguise myself. I could order some Polyjuice Potion from Slug and Jiggers... hair would be easy enough to get... new robes from Gladrags..." Sirius fell silent in his ponderings. After a while, he pulled himself out of it and gave Harry a huge grin, which made him seem younger by years.

"Right then! I'd better get started on the letter to Dumbledore-" Sirius' smile wavered as he mentioned Dumbledore. "-so I'll speak- Oh! What surname are you using?"

"Erm... I haven't chosen one." she admitted.

"Right, we need to choose one. What would you like it to be?"

"Umm... I don't know! I've never chosen a surname before!"

"Well... We need something inconspicuous. Something no-one's going to blink twice at... Peters?"

"No way." Harry replied, thinking of Peter Pettigrew. Sirius seemed to understand why, and moved on.

"How about Jones? Edwards? Thomas?

"Hmm... I rather like Jones." Sirius nodded, before another idea popped into his head.

"How about you take your mother's maiden name? Evans?"

"That was my mum's maiden name?"

"Yeah. I mean, it would be good to have her name, because it'll remind you of who you are and... stuff..." Sirius trailed off when he saw Harry had stopped listening. The silence seemed to pull Harry out of hi- _her_ thoughts.

"Yeah, I'll take Evans." Her voice sounded quite rough, but Sirius let it slide.

"Okay then. Well... I better get the paperwork sorted for you, and get supplies. Stay out of trouble now." He gave a mischievous wink, and she smiled back.

"Ok. Bye Sirius." She remained smiling long after he ended the conversation. It warmed her to know she wasn't alone in her problems, and that she had someone to talk to when things were hard. She wandered around the room with a smile on her face for a while, and then she checked the time. Four o'clock.

It was time to return to the opticians and get her new glasses. She went to walk out the door, until she thought of something; she had all these new clothes, why didn't she wear them?

She doubled back and grabbed the bags full of clothes. It was time to see if she could successfully be a girl.

* * *

It was half an hour later when Harry finally stepped out of the pub. Getting ready was harder than she thought it would be. She'd managed to buy everything in the right size, but she kept on getting confused as to how to do things up, how to put things on and how to wear them.

For example, it took her five minutes of dancing around her room to figure out how to do her bra up. The black skirt she wore was completely impossible to put on until she found the hidden zip at the back. There was no need to get started on the tights. And the tiny buckle on her shoes stabbed her fingers too many times to count as she tried to do them up.

Talking of her shoes, they had quite a high heel. Harry had questioned herself when she bought them, but now she almost regretted buying them. They were pretty and feminine, but almost impossible to walk in. Harry had to do several test walks in her room to make sure she could walk without falling over in them. It didn't help that Harry only realized later that her stiff skirt was not supposed to be around her knees.

And then came the make-up. She had only bought lipstick, eye shadow and liner, and mascara, (Harry had no desire to paint the whole of her face with make-up, after all) but it was quite difficult to put on. Harry was somewhat lucky in this respect – she had seen Aunt Petunia many a time doing herself up in the bathroom mirror, and just tried to copied what she remembered. This worked fine for the lipstick, eye-shadow and mascara. She just kept poking herself in the eye with the eyeliner, though, but she persevered and managed to make it look somewhat acceptable.

At least she didn't have much trouble putting a pad in her new knickers. It would've been exceptionally uncomfortable to still be in the one she had in this morning. Trying to get it to unstick from her fingers was a bit of a nightmare, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

All in all, though, Harry felt she had done a pretty good job. She wasn't getting strange looks from anyone, which meant her fashion sense was passable and her make-up presentable. She'd even got a few wolf-whistles as she descended into the pubs, which were quickly returned with a rude hand gesture. Harry's initial nervousness calmed as she went further into the street, and soon she was walking with her head held high.

As she walked along the street to the opticians, Harry felt accomplished. The worries about Dumbledore and his spies, what she was going to tell her friends and all the stress of the day melted away under that one, glorious feeling.

All was going to be well.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been two weeks since Harry's disappearance, and she had not been found yet. She was still staying in the same room she stayed in when she first came here, above the pub, in a small town she'd discovered was named Larkhill. The people of the town had generally accepted her presence – meaning they didn't whisper "Oh! She's new!" whenever she passed by. She'd even become on first name basis with a few of the townspeople.

Harry had also tried to keep in touch with both Ron and Hermione. She sent them both letters, saying she was fine, she wasn't dead and she'd done her homework, not mentioning where she was nor her changes. She received several pages worth of writing from not only Ron and Hermione, but also from Ginny, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Hagrid, Lupin, Sirius... even Dumbledore. They all told her either to come back or they missed her (often both) apart from Sirius' – his told her that someone had tried to put a tracking charm on Hedwig.

Needless to say, none of those letters were replied to.

Today was Harry's birthday, and even though she was not in correspondence with anyone at this moment in time, all her friends sent her birthday presents and letters. The Hogwarts owl delivered her Hogwarts letter, addressed to Mr Harry Potter. She skim-read it, before putting Frisbee-ing it over to the bin. She reached for the next envelope in the small pile of letters and parcels. It was from Ron.

_Harry-_

_Firstly, happy birthday! Secondly, get your arse back to your aunt and uncle! Everyone's going mad looking for you. Mum and Dad are really worried for you. What if Death Eaters run into you, Harry? I know your aunt and uncle weren't the best of people, but it's better than being caught by You-Know-Who. But if you're still going to hide, well... stay out of danger._

_Hope to see you at Hogwarts, if you get there._

_Ron_

Harry felt slightly guilty for worrying Mr and Mrs Weasley, but she supposed it couldn't be helped. She had sent an owl saying she'd be fine, after all. But Death Eaters... This was something she hadn't thought about. If Voldemort found her... she doubted she'd be alive at the end of it.

_You're disguised as a girl, _she told herself sternly. _If you can hide from Dumbledore like this, you can hide from Voldemort._ But the worry nagged at her, gnawing at her gut like a parasitic worm...

She pushed the worry aside and picked up Ron's parcel and opened it. Inside, Ron had sent her a large box of Honeydukes chocolates. Harry set it to the side and opened the next letter, which was from the rest of the Weasleys. It pretty much said the same as Ron's letter, except in politer terms, so she put it aside and reached for another. This one was from Hermione.

_Harry-_

_How are you? I saw you being chased through Diagon Alley by Snape and Lupin, and when I heard you ran away, I couldn't believe it! Oh Harry, please be careful! It looks like you're doing a good job of hiding though – from what we've heard, no-one's had any luck in finding you, apart from Snape and Lupin's chance encounter at Gringotts. But they think it'll be easier to find you since they have your Invisibility Cloak... I would ask you to come back, but I know a lost cause when I see one. All I ask is that you keep in touch._

_Good luck, and (hopefully) see you soon,_

_Hermione_

Hermione had also given her a box of Honeydukes chocolates. Harry grinned to herself. Although Hermione had reminded that she was still a wanted woman and had no Invisibility Cloak, there was something rather pleasing about Hermione not bothering to ask her to return to the Dursleys. She turned to the next letter.

The next one was from Sirius. Harry 's grin broadened, but soon fell after finishing reading.

_Harry-_

_Happy birthday, pup! I hope it's a good one. I've managed to register you on the magical birth list as a latecomer, and I've managed to get an interview with Albus about you possibly going to school there. I'm still not entirely comfortable lying to Albus – I owe him my life, after all – but if you think it's necessary... There's still some paperwork that you need to fill in - I've sent the forms with this letter – but if we're lucky you can be registered by the middle of August._

_A warning, though – I think Albus may have sent you a Portkey, laced with compulsion charms. I definitely saw him put a tracking charm on the owl he sent it with. Be careful, and prepare to move if need be._

_Speak to me on the mirror as soon as you get this._

_Love,_

_Sirius_

Harry's face was a frown by the time she finished. _That sneaky old coot._ She didn't think Dumbledore would try something so underhand as that, but here was the evidence. In an effort to lift his mood, Harry grabbed Sirius' present and tore it open.

Sirius had baked her a cake. It was her favourite kind – chocolate and butter cream, with 'Happy Birthday, Harry!' written on top. Her grin returned, and she ran his finger around the edge and licked it. It tasted as good as it looked. Smiling, she put it to the side and, deciding to wait until she opened his last letter before speaking to Sirius on the mirror, reached for the final envelope.

This was the one she had been dreading. Hedwig had arrived back with this one herself, but it arrived spotted with blood and with an owl's talon still attached. It wasn't Hedwig's talon – Harry had checked as soon as she arrived – so she supposed Hedwig must've ripped it from another owl. Which wasn't like her at all.

She gingerly opened the envelope. As soon as she saw the loopy handwriting, Harry knew exactly who the letter was from, and why Hedwig had attacked the original bird it came from.

_Harry, my dear boy-_

_I see you have manageably hidden yourself away. I congratulate you – not many have succeeded for as long as you have. I do wish you'd return to your aunt and uncle – they miss you terribly. As do your friends, Ronald and Hermione, the Weasleys and your godfather._

_Also, there is the matter of your protection at your aunt's house. With you not there, both you and they face terrible danger as the blood wards – that is, the ward created when your mother died – will fall if you do not return. I hope you take this letter into consideration and return immediately._

_I have enclosed a gift for you, since it is your birthday, if I remember rightly. A very happy birthday to you._

_Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry was torn between laughter and incredulity. Did Dumbledore honestly think she'd believe her relatives would miss her? The whole letter was a pack of lies, and although Harry worried a little about the blood wards, but she still had no proof they even existed. Sirius was right about the tracked owl, but luckily Hedwig had intercepted it, otherwise Harry would've been in Dumbledore's grasp quicker than you could say 'sweeties'. Was Sirius right about the parcel being a Portkey too? _Only one way to find out..._ She reached for the small wrapped parcel he had sent with the letter and carefully opened it.

She had almost peeled back the final layer when Hedwig suddenly gave a hoot of alarm. Harry turned and saw her flying towards her. She flew between Harry and the parcel, blowing back the final layer of wrapping and knocking Harry's hands away. Slightly confused, Harry peered into the package, expecting to see something dangerous.

It was a sherbet lemon. A single sherbet lemon, wrapped in many layers to stop it from breaking. _It was a very interesting sherbet lemon, _Harry thought, as she reached out for it again-

Hedwig flew between them again, settling between the package and Harry. Harry felt a mild wave of irritation come over her. She _needed_ to see that sherbet lemon, dammit! She didn't know why, but it was important for... something... Harry reached out again. Hedwig nudged his hand away. She tried moving her owl. Hedwig bit her several times for her troubles.

It soon became one of the oddest fights Harry had ever taken part in. Each time she tried to move Hedwig, she got bitten. When she tried to reach around her, she got nudged away. When she yelled at Hedwig, Hedwig screeched back.

It all came to a halt when Hedwig decided that she was bored of the fight and just sat on the sherbet lemon. Harry was beyond furious. She _wanted _that sherbet lemon! It was pretty, it looked tasty (though not under Hedwig's bum it didn't), and she needed it now.

"Hedwig, get _off._"Hedwig looked at her balefully, giving an angry hoot in return. Harry growled, before reaching out to-

_Poof_. Harry blinked a few times before she realised what had happened.

Hedwig, along with the parcel, had vanished.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry stared in shock at the spot Hedwig had occupied only a few moments ago for several long second. The shock, however, was quickly replaced with panic, as she fully realised the gravity of the situation.

She _should_ have remembered Sirius' words! He had warned her that Dumbledore had sent her a Compulsion Charm laced Portkey, and what had she done? Opened the parcel anyway. And with her idiocy, she had succeeded in in losing her owl. Harry felt terribly guilty and kicked herself several times for it. Hedwig was one of her last links to the wizarding world, and the only one to her friends. If Dumbledore kept Hedwig under lock and key (and she suspected he would), then Harry had no means of contacting Ron and Hermione.

She let her head crash against the headboard of the bed with a dull thunk.

What was she going to do? Ron and Hermione would think she had deserted them if she didn't write to them. Without Hedwig, Harry couldn't send any parcels. She couldn't send the paperwork back to Sirius. Which meant Harry could not go to Hogwarts.

Hedwig was a necessity in the situation she was in, and without her, Harry hadn't a chance. She would have to return to the Dursleys, face the onslaught of verbal beratings from the Dursleys, Dumbledore, Mrs Weasley, Ron and Hermione for running away. her secret would be found out, and everyone would look at him with disappointed eyes, disappointed that Harry was noth the perfect hero they wanted her to be...

_At least I can still speak with Sirius, _Harry told herself. And although it didn't take away all of the sadness, it helped somewhat. Which reminded her, she still needed to talk to Sirius on the mirrors. She reached over to the bedside cabinet and plucked it off her photo album.

"Sirius Black." The mirror went misty as it worked it's magic, but it soon cleared. Harry found herself looking at the inside of someone's pocket. The sound hit him a moment later – a cacophony of owl screeches and human yells. _Well, I now have an idea where Hedwig is, _Harry thought to herself.

"_Hang on, Harry," _Harry recognised the rough whisper as Sirius' own. It was for her ears own ears only. She remained silent, and pricked her ears for any information. It was very hard – Hedwig's angry squawks and hoots were so loud it made it almost impossible to here anything past the noise. Harry was about to give up and call later, when she had a magnificent stroke of luck.

"_Silencio!" _Hedwig's raucous cries fell silent. Harry recognised the jinxer's voice as Snape's, and felt a surge of hatred for him for jinxing her owl. Even though Harry probably would've done the same thing. The voices from around the room were clearer now, so she hung on to the connection.

"...can't believe it didn't work. How did it not work?" Harry didn't recognise this voice, but immediately recognised the lilting voice of Dumbledore who answered.

"It seems Harry's owl, Hedwig, is much smarter than we originally anticipated."

"The owl? That white snowball?" A cage rattled in the background, and Harry imagined Hedwig was not at all pleased to be referred to as 'that white snowball'. "You say that owl stopped a fully grown wizard from attending his post?"

"Fletcher, you underestimate the bond between Potter and his owl. Potter would not harm his owl, even if she tried to peck him to death." It was McGonagall. Harry gave a little mental cheer for her for standing up for him and Hedwig. "If Hedwig were to stop him from touching the Portkey, Harry would not touch it."

"Yet he can rip the leg of someone else's owl?"

"Potter may be a dunderhead, but I am inclined to believe he is rather civilised when receiving post. He would not tear an owl's leg in desperation to read a letter." Snape again. Harry almost gave another mental cheer until she realised who had spoken.

"Then who do you think hurt the owl?"

"Perhaps his own owl? Minerva did mention the bird particularly cared for Potter."

"That snowball couldn't harm a fly-"

"Yet she attempted to bite my fingers off as soon as she arrived." Dumbledore intervened. "But it is of no importance. We still have not got Harry back."

"It's only been two weeks, Albus." Harry recognised the voice as Moody's – probably the real deal, unlike the imposter from last year.

"Yet is two weeks he has been in danger of Voldemort-" Harry heard several intakes of breath, and rolled her eyes. "-and it is becoming most imperative that we find him. He is essential in the war we find ourselves in."

"I don't think the boy would appreciate being told he _must _be a part of a war."

"You know the prophecy as well as I do, Severus – if Harry takes part, he may live. If he does not, Voldemort will surely kill him." Snape did not reply. Dumbledore carried on.

"Right now, our priority will have to be returning Harry. Nothing could be more important. Since we will have to detain Hedwig here-"

"You're keeping the damn thing? After it tried to bite you."

"If we let her go back to Harry, she will try to stop any new efforts we make to capture him."

"Do you want me to keep her here in Grimmauld Place?" Sirius offered, and Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards the man. Dumbledore, however, had other ideas.

"No.. I believe she would be better suited to stay at Hogwarts, with myself. Not that I do not trust you Sirius, but I cannot be sure whether any of the children will free her."

Sirius sighed, and Harry felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Ok. What are you going to do to get Harry back?"

"I hope his worry for the sake of his owl will bring him out. If not, I may send out a Portkey with another tracked owl-"

"Albus, the last owl- _my owl_, may I add – came back with a missing leg. I don't think anyone will be willing to send out their owl jinxed and with the chance of losing appendages." Harry felt a smug sense of satisfaction upon learning it was Snape's owl Hedwig had attacked.

"Hedwig isn't there to attack the owl this time. But I shall think our next plan for the next meeting. Order Of The Phoenix, session adjourned." Harry heard Dumbledore clap his hand twice, and the scrape of chairs and low chatter filled her ears. It was suddenly muffled as Sirius left the room.

A minute and another door slam later and Sirius' smiling face came into view on the mirror. But Harry was full of questions about what she had just overheard.

"Sirius! Is Hedwig alright? What's the Order Of The Phoenix? And what's the prophecy?"

"Hedwig is fine. The Order Of The Phoenix is a Voldemort resistance group. Can't really tell you much else about it. And I have no idea what the prophecy is. Seemed to be something between Snape and Dumbledore. Greasy git." Sirius patiently answered Harry's questions, drawing a face when he mentioned Snape. Harry smiled.

"You'll have to congratulate Hedwig before she leaves, for biting the leg off of Snape's owl." Sirius laughed.

"I must! Anyway, happy birthday Harry! Did you get my gift and letter?"

"Yes, I did! Thanks for the cake, it's really nice! Did you make it yourself?"

"Yeah. Had to make it in the little time Molly left the kitchen." They both shared a grin at this. Mrs Weasley's kitchen was her castle, and she didn't like anyone in there. "Anyway, you'll need to fill in those forms quickly – the meeting with Albus is on Monday."

"Okay. But how will I send the paperwork back to you? I don't have an owl. And how will I get to Hogwarts?"

"I'll send an owl down to you. As for travel, do you still have your Firebolt?" At Harry's nod, Sirius continued. "Could you try and fly to London? We'll take the Express up to Hogwarts."

"What about the Muggles? I don't have my Cloak."

"What happened to it?"

"Snape had it. He got it when he found me in Diagon Alley."

"Damn... I'll see if I can find it and send it to you, Harry. If not, you'll just have to risk it." Harry didn't really want to risk being caught by the Ministry, but found himself nodding along. It wasn't as if she had much choice, anyway.

"Fine. What time?"

"Train leaves at eight o' clock."


	10. Chapter 10

The days seemed to drag by. Without Hedwig to fuss over, Harry's initial first days were filled with endless gazing out the window, waiting for Monday to come along. She and Sirius contacted each other everyday, either asking about form-filling or out of sheer boredom.

After the first few days, however, Harry's landlady, Mrs Dolven, saw the marked difference in her demeanour, and made it her priority to coax her room-bound guest out of her room. With nothing to do, Harry humoured her, and often found herself downstairs talking to her, or taking part in the nightly pub quizzes, which she often lost. She took Sirius' mirror with her most nights, so Sirius could join in the fun. He was as bad as, if not worse than, she was, so they often had fun making up the most outrageous answers to the questions.

During the day, Harry often went for long walks around the town. One day, she made an excursion to Stonehenge, the ancient rock circle only a few minutes walk away. Another, she wandered to the nearby towns of Strangeways and Durrington, and wandered around the different Muggle stores. But it didn't make up for the two things Harry missed the most – friends and magic.

The town of Larkhill did nothing to soothe her longing for magic. Perhaps it was from the proximity of Stonehenge, but there was a certain mystical aura around the place. Harry often found herself seeing things out of the corners of her eyes – perhaps a glimpse of sparks, or the tip of a wand, but whenever she turned around, it always vanished. Harry often argued with herself as to whether these sightings were real or not, and always came to same inconclusive answer – she just didn't know.

That was until Saturday morning.

Harry had only been in the local park for a few minutes. She'd been trying (and failing) to complete a new number puzzle Mrs Dolven had set her when the two girls came into his view, arguing about something. Harry recognised the first immediately – Su Li was a Ravenclaw girl in her year. She supposed the one following her must've been a younger relative – they both shared Oriental-type facial features, pug-shaped nose and curly, dirty-blonde hair. As they came closer, Harry managed to catch what they were saying.

"Sisi, please play with me!"

"No! I've told you a thousand times over, no!" The younger tugged with all her body weight on Su's arm, and managed to turn her partway around. "What?"

"Sisi, you promised! You promised last summer we could play 'witches' when we came back from Hogwarts!" This made Harry's ears prick up like a dogs, and she paid more attention to them."

"You're not supposed to be out this far! Go home!" Su tried to turn again, but the little girl dug her heels in and refused to budge. Su turned back around, and there was definitely a hard edge in her voice. "Gigi! Let. Me. Go!"

"No! Daddy told you not to break promises!"

"Daddy was wrong!" The shock of this statement seemed to loosen the little girl's hold, and Su pulled her arm away.

"Daddy can't be wrong!"

"He is this time. Because it's ok to break promises to little _sneaks_ like you!"

"But- but-" The little girl called Gigi was now in tears. "I d-didn't do a-anything!"

"You know what you did." There was silence between them, punctured by the Gigi's sobs. When she spoke again, she spoke in a quiet voice, and Harry strained to her.

"Sisi-"

"Stop calling me that!" The statement sent Gigi into a new wave of sobs.

"B-but Su, I d-didn't h-have any ch-ch-choice!"

"You did! You always have one!"

"I was s-scared! I let the H-hat S-sort me where i-it wanted m-me to go-"

"You were a coward."

"No! Sisi, wait!" But Su had evidently had enough, and stalked off towards the town, leaving Gigi alone with her tears in the middle of the park. Harry watched her go, before dropping his puzzle and walking over to Gigi. At her approach, Gigi looked up, and her expression changed into sheer panic. The panic seemed to have replaced the sobs with full body tremors.

Not wanting her to bolt, Harry squatted beside her so she stood taller than her, and started to speak to her in what she hoped was a soothing voice. "Hey."

She merely squeaked.

"It's ok. Don't worry." She gave a grin. "I know all about Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry." At the mention of Hogwarts, Gigi immediately adopted a relieved expression.

"Oh! Do you go go to school there like me?"

"I... will be."

"Are you like a transfer?"

"Something like that." She raised an eyebrow that was so Snape-like, Harry was momentarily taken aback. She quickly recomposed herself.

"Is Gigi your name?"

"Yeah. Well... no. Everyone calls me it though, so it may as well be my real name."

"What's your _actual _name?"

"Not sayin'." Harry grinned at her defiant expression.

"Well, my name's Harry."

"Harry? That's a boys nickname. What's your _real _name?"

"Not sayin'." Harry mimicked Gigi's voice down to a tee. Gigi looked at him wide-eyed, before frowning.

"No fair."

"'Tis fair. Now will you tell me why such a lovely little lady-" Gigi giggled at the compliment. "-is in such a tearful little mess?" Gigi's mouth drooped.

"Sisi, my sister, wont play with me."

"Why not?

"'Cause of what happened at Hogwarts."

"What happened at Hogwarts?"

"Well- I-" Gigi burst into tears. "The S-sorting H-hat sort-ted me int-to Slytherin!" Harry felt her stomach drop. _How could such a sweet girl be in Slytherin?_ Gigi, sob-wracked, carried on.

"And n-now Sisi won't speak-k to m-me! She th-thinks I'm c-cruel and e-evil and it's always m-my f-fault when th-things go w-wrong!" She stared straight into Harry's green eyes. "I'm not evil, am I?" she asked in a stage whisper.

Harry hesitated, scanning the girls eyes for anything insincerity. But there was none. Just honest fright.

"No, Gigi. You're not evil."

* * *

Harry ended up playing with Gigi for the rest of the afternoon. Harry, not surprisingly, was ignorant about the games of wizarding children, and Gigi spent half the time teaching Harry how to play. 'Witches' was relatively simple – pretend to be a fully-grown witch. Gigi played the role of the most powerful witch in the world – a role, she assured her, she would have when she was older. 'Hippogriffs' was a relatively similar thing, except you pretended to be a Hippogriff.

The game 'Find the Snitch' was similar to the game 'Sardines'. Someone was the Snitch, and went to hide. If you found the Snitch, you hid with them. The last person to find the Snitch lost the game. Since it was only the two of them, it was more along the lines of 'Hide and Seek', though they often remained hidden and watched other people from their hiding place, giggling.

One of the games Harry never understood was "Goopta". The rules were so complex, Harry often thought Gigi was making them up as she went along. Needless to say, Gigi often got frustrated at Harry's incompetence and soon changed to the Muggle game of 'Hopscotch'.

Harry was as incompetent in some Muggle games as she was in wizarding games. Since Dudley scared off many of Harry's playmates, she never had a chance to appreciate the simplicity of games. Gigi, having been raised in a Muggle community, knew many, and was relatively good at them all. Well, good compared to Harry, who wasn't much competition.

She learnt the fine art of daisy-chain making, and the wild brutality of 'British Bulldogs' – a game where tackling people to the ground seemed to be the main objective. Gigi taught her how to skip, how to play 'Fireball' and other things. But soon it got too late in the afternoon to play, and Harry returned to the bench and attempted the number puzzle again, with Gigi sat beside him.

"I think that's a two."

"Why?"

"Because if it goes there, we have a row of three two's.

This was the general conversation between them as they tried to solve the puzzle. Gigi was no good at puzzles, and preferred putting numbers in places where they made patterns. Harry had managed to solve half the puzzle, but was now unsure where to go next.

"Gigi!" They looked up and saw Su Li coming across the park, looking furious.

"Oh no..." Gigi looked terrified, fiddling with the daisy crown she had made earlier. Su Li finally arrived at their seat.

"Gigi! What have I told you? _You_ don't disturb other people! I'm sorry for my sister, Miss-" The last part was aimed at Harry, but she waved it off.

"Don't worry. This is probably the most fun I've had in one afternoon!"

"You don't need to be _nice _for her sake-"

"I'm not! It was genuinely fun. I've never played any of the games we played. They were really fun!" Gigi grinned at her from behind her sister. Su sniffed, before turning on her heel and storming off.

"Come on, Gigi. We're going." As soon as Su turned, Gigi shot Harry an apologetic look. Harry smiled soothingly at her.

"Don't worry. I'll see you at Hogwarts."

"Will you still play with me when I'm back in Slytherin?"

Harry hesitated before replying. "Sure thing, Gigi. Sure thing."


	11. Chapter 11

Monday rolled around, and Harry was getting ready to leave for . She had thrown away all of Dudley's old clothes to make room for her new ones, packed a few nights worth of necessities (such as her wand and knickers) in her rucksack and was now walking to the forest where she landed two and a half weeks ago with nothing but a pocketful of money to her name, Firebolt in hand.

She had not seen Gigi since Saturday – Harry supposed Su kept her under close surveillance, and did not allow her to see Harry. Therefore, Harry left without saying goodbye. Mrs Dolven seemed sad that Harry was leaving for a few days, but she had taken it in her stride and offered to let Harry leave some of her stuff in the room, since it was likely she'd be back. Harry accepted her offer with gratitude – it would make the journey to London a whole lot easier.

Finding a spot perfect for lifting off, Harry swung her leg over her broom. The early morning mist hung low on the ground, but it was no surprise since it was six o' clock in the morning. Harry had to leave early so she would arrive on time for the train, as well as have enough time to find Sirius. They had spoken beforehand and had agreed on what Sirius should hold to be recognisable – an Irish rosette borrowed from Ron, much to Sirius' disgust, as he fully supported the English Quidditch team.

She kicked off and zoomed into the cloudy sky. Sirius had not found her Invisibility Cloak, so the low cloud provided a near-perfect hiding place for an airbourne Harry. She twitched her broom so she travelled perfectly eastwards, following the route she took here backwards. While the trip there had taken her just over an hour, the way back took an hour and a half, having decided she was _never_ going as fast as she had gone first-time round.

But soon, for the second time as she dipped below the clouds, the wild city of London sprawled out beneath her like a giant plant, its tendrils spreading out as far as the eye could see. Harry quickly found the hazy outline of alleyway she had landed in before and dived for it, hoping that there were no early morning commuters looking for a quick romp in the alley.

There was not, and Harry landed without problem. Peeking out from the alleyway, Harry looked around for Sirius. The streets were nearly empty, with only the odd businessman walking all prim and proper to their jobs. The only one who stood out was a woman over the other side of the road, dressed in a knitted overcoat and a dark, voluptuous dress and cluching a small, black purse.. Harry didn't recognise the dress, but had seen the overcoat so many times before.

_That's not... Mrs Weasley? _Harry had no time to hide as the woman's ice blue eyes roved over her-

_Wait, Mrs Weasley's eyes were brown! _Harry looked closer at the woman. Now she focused on the woman, she saw the varied differences. The hair was black and curled, the nose narrower and lips thinner. And Harry was sure Mrs Weasley would not be seen dead in a black hat with a pinned Irish rosette.

This must be Sirius' disguise. When the woman looked back over at her, Harry waved madly. The woman looked confused, until recognition and delight spread over her features. She hurried over, lifting the seemingly never-ending folds of her dress above her ankles as she crossed the road to him.

"Harry? Is that you?" Harry nodded. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God! I thought you might've been caught!"

"Caught? Why?"

"This whole place is teeming with Order members and Aurors! They're all looking for you."

"No..." Harry panicked slightly. Had someone seen his dive from the clouds? Sirius seemed to read her thoughts.

"Don't worry, if someone saw you, they'd be here by now. Plus I doubt they'd recognise you as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. You're lucky your hair covers your scar."

Harry raised her hand to her forehead. She had completely forgotten about her scar, but unfortunately she could still feel it on her head. It hadn't hurt her recently – but then again, Voldemort was probably still weak from their escapade in the graveyard. He had only just been resurrected, after all.

"Mmm. How long have we got until our train leaves?"

"Twenty-five minutes. We'd better get going. Hand me your broom." Harry handed it over. Opening his purse, Sirius pushed it in, jostling it a bit so it would fit. Harry stared on in shock that such a small item could hold a broomstick. Sirius caught her expression.

"Undetectable Extension Charm and Featherlight spell. Easier to carry things around."

They both walked out from the alley. The streets were still deserted, as were most of the train-station platforms as they walked passed them. They walked in silence, until Harry asked the question which had been bothering her for the last five minutes.

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"What do I call you? Now you're in disguised, I mean."

"Erm... Auntie."

"Auntie?"

"Yeah, Auntie. According to the records, I'm your dad's sister, and I look after you."

"Okay..."

"Don't worry, it was strange when I thought of it too." They lapsed into silence, until a minute later Harry asked another question.

"Where did you get your disguise?"

"I bought the Polyjuice potion from the potions store in Diagon Alley. Nicked a hair from some random person I met on the way out. I have enough in here-" He tapped his little black purse, which clinked loudly. "-to last the trip. The hat, bag and dress I got from '_dear old mummy's_'-" Sirius spat these words out. "-old wardrobe."

"I'm guessing you never liked your mother."

"No... But if you saw her painting, you'd understand why." They fell quiet, until Sirius decided to continue answering Harry's question. "Anyway, I thought my mother's clothes were a little dated, so I borrowed Mrs Weasley's overcoat to cover it up."

"Does Mrs Weasley know you have her coat?"

"No... but she'll have it back soon." They arrived at the wall for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The two of them strolled casually towards the barrier and walked straight through it. The steam from the great Hogwarts Express billowed around them as walked on to the station proper. Harry saw that the Hogwarts Express seemed to have shrink – instead of the numerous carriages, there was only the engine and one, black carriage.

Both Sirius and Harry took their stuff and boarded the train. The carriage was very different to the carriages Harry usually rode on her way to the school. The seats were plush and the colour of plums. The wood panelling was dark, instead of the pale found in normal carriages. Harry took her time looking around, before depositing everything on the nearest seat and sinking into another. The seats were exceptionally comfy.

"What is this carriage used for?"

"Head Boy and Head Girl." Sirius replied, stretching out across the seat opposite Harry, in a completely unwomanly pose. "I haven't been in here for... donkey's years."

"You were Head Boy?"

"Oh, god no. I was too much of a prankster for that. It was your father and mother, James and Lily, who got the coveted positions. They let us in here for the ride. I think Lily regretted it."

"My parents were Head Boy and Girl?"

"Sure thing, pup. You've got a lot to aim for." Sirius gave her a wink, and Harry grinned. A sudden whistle interrupted their conversation with its high pitched whine. The engine started to move, slowly at first, then with much greater speed. Harry looked out the window, and watched as the platform moved past the glass and faded into grey buildings, and with a jolt, Harry realised_ she was going back to Hogwarts._

She grinned. This reaction on the Express was always one of excitement – excitement at leaving the Dursleys, excitement at seeing his friends, excitement for learning magic, excitement at being able to return to his four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower...

_Gryffindor..._ The name reminded her of an ugly truth – as she was going to Hogwarts as a new student, she would have to be Sorted again. Meaning she might not be seeing her favourite bed in Gryffindor tower ever again. Her stomach sank at the thought. What if she was Sorted not into Gryffindor, but the Hat's second choice, Slytherin? Would Sirius still be with him? Harry remembered Su's reaction to Gigi's Slytherin sorting, and hoped with everything she had that she was not sorted into Slytherin. Even Hufflepuff would be preferable to Slytherin.

Harry had no desire to be the scapegoats of the other houses. She didn't want to be in the house the others mistrusted. She couldn't be in Slytherin. She just couldn't be. She didn't even fit in to Slytherin – she had no desire for power, nor was she cunning. She wasn't _evil_-

_Not all Slytherins are evil_, a voice in her head told her. _Gigi wasn't. She's a Slytherin, and she was lovely to play with. Don't judge a group based on a few of it's members._

_But the majority of Slytherins are,_ Harry tried to argue back,_ like Malfoy, Voldemort..._

_Gigi is eleven, _the voice told her. _Why are you thrusting the title of evil on an innocent eleven-year-old?_

Harry had no answer.


	12. Chapter 12

The train pulled up at the station at around four o' clock. The train ride itself had been filled with detail learning – Sirius had told Harry all she needed to know, including where they lived to what she apparently got for Christmas last year. Even Sirius' favourite pair of socks was duly learnt and repeated. Every half an hour Sirius quizzed her on all the knowledge, to make sure she had it all in her head.

Harry clambered out of the black carriage after Sirius, leaping the small gap between the train and the stone floor. She spotted Sirius waiting for her, quickly gulping down a small phial of pastel blue potion – Harry guessed it was the Polyjuice potion. She joined her godfather, and together they walked towards a small, well-worn path leading off the platform. They had only walked a few metres when they met who would be taking them up to the castle.

Professor McGonagall stood by a carriage, drawn by a what seemed to be a winged, blackened, horse skeleton. She looked up as they arrived, straightened her usual emerald robes and approached them, as prim and proper as she was during the school term.

"Good evening. You must be the Evans family?" she asked. Harry felt a slight pang of loss as McGonagall didn't refer to him as the usual 'Potter', but Harry didn't really expect it. She was disguised as a girl, after all.

"Yes, we are. You must be Professor McGonagall." Sirius stated. McGonagall nodded sharply.

"I'm guessing Professor Dumbledore told you who would meet you?"

"Yes." McGonagall, happy that she had picked up the right family, ushered them into the carriage. Both Harry and Sirius sat side by side, while McGonagall sat across from them. As soon as the door clicked shut, the skeleton-thing pulled on the harness, and the three of them were trundled up to the castle.

During the ride, McGonagall filled them in on all information required. Harry's mind drifted as she spoke, but she managed to insert the odd 'Mmhmm' and occasional three-word answer to McGonagall's occasional questions, and acted properly shocked at their first glimpse of Hogwarts.

The first glimpse, and the many sightings thereafter gave Harry a magical thrill which had nothing to do with wands. It was the thrill of happiness. The thrill of seeing an oasis in a desert. The thrill of seeing somewhere you knew was nice and warm on a cold, wet day.

It was a thrill of coming home.

The carriage slowed to a halt, and McGonagall and Sirius climbed out rather gracefully, leaving Harry to almost fall her way out. McGonagall walked on ahead of them, while Sirius waited for her to brush herself off and catch up, smirking at her when she scowled.

They made their way to the Entrance Hall, where McGonagall waited for them.

"If you would follow me..." She lead them through different corridors, in the direction of, Harry realised soon later, the Headmaster's office. Knowing where they were going, Harry slowed Sirius down so they were out of earshot of the professor in front.

"Sirius-"

"Auntie. Practise calling me Auntie."

"Fine then. Auntie, what were those things that pulled the carriages?"

"Thestrals." They remained silent for a while, until Harry realised the closer they came to the office, the more Sirius was shaking.

"Siri- Auntie, are you alright?" Sirius gave her a completely unconvincing smile.

"Yeah, fine." He paused for a while. "Just nervous. Never lied to Dumbledore before. But should be fine. Could be fine. Will be fine. Just lying to the guy who saved my life. No biggie. Will-"

"It'll be _fine." _Harry reassured him "Seriouly." she added, when Sirius looked unconvinced. Harry grabbed Sirius' hand and gave it a quick squeeze. Sirius smiled slightly at the contact, and clung to her hand like a lifeline.

"They arrived at Dumbledore's office about half a minute after McGonagall. If she noticed their clasped hands, she made no mention of it, instead turning to speak to the stone guardian guarding the entrance.

"Fudge flies." The guardian nodded once and turned on the spot, revealing a hidden spiral staircase. They climbed up it, and soon stood in front of the oak door, behind which was the one man they'd have the hardest chance to fool. Harry's heart had started to patter in her chest. Sirius was shaking so badly he was shaking Harry. McGonagall knocked on the door, and let them in.

The first thing Harry noticed was Hedwig, in a locked cage on Dumbledore's desk. She looked completely dejected and miserable. Her feathers where a dull grey instead of the brilliant white they usually were, and she seemed a lot thinner. She seemed to be asleep, as she didn't notice Harry's entrance.

Dumbledore was sat behind the desk, silver beard glittering and eyes twinkling. He rose as they approached, and Harry saw that his usually flamboyant dress style had been muted – he wore a dark maroon robe over black boots. He smiled in a calming fashion, but it did nothing for their nerves – if anything, Sirius was shaking more than ever.

"Good evening Mrs Evans, and of course dear Harriet." He nodded at Harry, and she nodded back, vaguely uneased by how easily Dumbledore accepted them.

"Good evening." After a moment's hesitation, Sirius echoed the sentiment. Dumbledore nodded again.

"We're just waiting for another professor to join us- Ah, there you are Severus!"

To both Harry and Sirius' horror, Snape had walked into the room, black robes billowing behind him. He nodded at Dumbledore and at Sirius and Harry, before joining McGonagall by the door. Sirius had gone tense beside Harry, the shaking having vanished. Harry had to kick Sirius to stop him from scowling at Snape.

"Now then!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "I assume Professor McGonagall has told you all about Hogwarts?"

"Yes." Harry answered, as Sirius was still too tense to reply.

"Very good. It will mean a much shorter time in this office. Now, before we go anywhere, we must test your magic. This is a most unique situation we are in, and we would like to make sure you know enough magic strong enough for you to stay in your fifth year at Hogwarts. Professor Snape-" He indicated to Snape. "-will be dealing with your offensive and defensive magic. Professor McGonagall will be dealing with everything in between. There will also be a short paper for you to complete as well, with no time limit, to deal with non-wand based subjects, such as Potions and Herbology. Any questions so far?"

"None." Harry quickly interjected, stopping Sirius from opening his mouth in protest against Snape dealing with offensive magic against his god-daughter.

"Afterwards, Professor Snape and McGonagall, along with any staff on hand, will evaluate your performance and paper. Tomorrow, if we see you know enough to enter the year, you will be Sorted. It usually happens in the Great Hall, but I doubt you would want to walk in with the first years." He smiled benignly at her, and Harry smiled back – she had no desire to be the centre of attention.

Soon after, there were a few more forms for both Sirius and Harry to fill in, and then she was whisked off to the first test – the written paper. It wasn't as hard as she expected – it was mostly multiple choice and short answers. She felt she had completed it fairly well – though she doubted most of the answers on the History of Magic section.

The second part were spells which were neither offensive and defensive. Harry felt a bit like a show dog as she performed spells such as the Banishing and Summoning Charm, _Wingardium Leviosa_ and basic transfiguration in front of McGonagall watching eyes. McGonagall stood to the side and told her what to cast, randomly spawning objects whenever they were needed. Harry was weaker here than with the paper, and sometimes confused incantations, but when McGonagall graced her with a rare smile, Harry knew she had done well.

The last part was the part Harry had been hoping and dreading for. Defence Against The Dark Arts was Harry's best subject, but she didn't really fancy her chances with Snape. He worked differently than McGonagall, using himself as a target instead of objects, and finishing with a duel – something Harry was sure Snape would be jumping for joy for if he knew who she was. Harry had to give the man credit – he was exceptionally fast at dealing and shielding damage, even from Harry's sneakier spells. This had also gone rather well. Harry had held Snape off for around quarter of an hour before a _Petrificus Totalus _took him out from the side.

When she returned to the office, she found Sirius pacing worriedly. Dumbledore was sat at his desk, eating a packet of sherbet lemons. Hedwig seemed to have woken up, and was gazing restlessly around the room. She caught sight of Harry, and was about to screech in greeting until Harry put her fingers to her lips in a 'shh' motion. Hedwig got the idea and remained silent.

Dumbledore, however, noticed Hedwig's increased activity. "Hedwig seems to have taken an interest in you, Harriet."

"I was always good with animals, Professor." Harry replied, strolling over to Hedwig's cage. Sirius finally took notice of Harry,and walked to join her. Harry stuck her fingers between the bars of the cage and scratched Hedwig's beak. Snape and McGonagall strode over, and the both also noticed Hedwig's attentions. Snape gave Harry a piercing look.

"Now, Harriet," Harry looked up at her new name. Dumbledore was speaking. "I believe that's all we require of you today. I'm sure you'll be glad to see your bed, before the excitement tomorrow will bring. You know the way out of the castle?" Harry nodded.

"We're staying in a room above the Three Broomsticks, Harry," Sirius spoke from her side. "So it's not much of a walk."

"No," She agreed. "It's not. Goodnight, Professors." She nodded to each one in turn. Sirius echoed her sentiment, nodding to everyone but Snape, who he gave a funny sort of head twitch, before leading Harry out of the room.

But as she left, Harry swore a pair of black eyes followed her back until the office door swung shut.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry woke up to the smell of hot Butterbeer and toast. She rolled over in her bed to one side and saw where the smell emanated from – a breakfast tray had been laid on her bedside cabinet, with a note from Sirius saying to enjoy her lie-in and bring the tray down to the bar once she finished. Harry questioned the intelligence of drinking Butterbeer at this time in the morning, but the smell was too enticing to resist, and soon she was tucking into the breakfast like a starved lion.

Sirius, disguised once again as Mrs Evans, walked in as Harry scraped the last remnants of her jam-covered toast off the plate her tongue. He watched with a barely concealed grin as Harry opened her eyes and finally spotted Sirius by the door, tongue hanging out in shock. The plate was quickly dropped back on the tray.

"I see you're up. Finally." Sirius grinned at her.

"It's not that late is it?" Harry replied, moving the tray to the side and smoothing crumbs off of her nightshirt.

"It's half ten."

"Seriously?" Harry yawned and stretched towards the ceiling. "Better get up, then. What time do we need to be up at Hogwarts?"

"They're sending a carriage down now."

"Now?" Harry leapt out of bed as if electrocuted. "What do you mean, now?"

"Now, as in now."

"Oh god... Sirius, get out of here! I need to get changed!"

"Harry, I've seen it all before- Oh wait, I haven't seen your type."

"And you never will." Harry chivvied Sirius out the room and shut the door behind him. She dived to her bags and pulled out clothes and make-up, before rushing to the bathroom.

Sirius was waiting for her at the bar when she descended ten minutes later, pulling a comb through her hair. The usually packed bar was almost empty. The only people there were those who had rented rooms like them, sat at tables eating English fry-ups with sleep in their eyes.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, turning to her and smirking at her slightly dishevelled appearance. Harry gave him a look which screamed 'What do you think?'. He grinned in return. "Carriage is outside. Come on!"

Sirius bounded out the door like an excited young pup, Harry following sleepily behind. No professor accompanied them this time, there was only the lone Thestral and its carriage. They clambered into the into it and, with a slight jerk, off it went.

The trip there seemed to be much quicker than the previous – Harry suspected McGonagall had led them the long way around on the first trip – and by the time they arrived, Harry had woken up somewhat. The nerves started to mount as they got out and greeted Professor McGonagall, who was waiting on the steps.

The corridors seemed to lengthen as they walked down them. Harry's heartbeat was racing, and although Sirius was no longer shaking like yesterday, Harry could see he was as nervous as she was. Her old thoughts about the Houses on the train came back to haunt her, and with every step she took she wished more than ever she was back in _her _bed in Gryffindor Tower. Which, soon, may not even be his!

She started to wish this had never happened. That she had not agreed to this half-baked plan about going to Hogwarts. That she had not left the Dursleys. That she had not woken up one morning with mounds on her chest and blood in her underwear...

She hardly noticed they had arrived at the gargoyle until Sirius grasped her arm to stop her from walking into it. Sirius looked at Harry worriedly, so she quickly sent him a smile, which didn't placate him at all. The password to Dumbledore's office was the same as it was before, but the travel up wasn't. They both heard a snippet of the argument coming from behind the oak office door.

"-the eyes, Albus! Can't you recognise the eyes? I've seen those eyes everyday for several years, I would recognise them immediately!" It was Snape, sounding tired and frustrated.

"Yes, but there may be millions of people with the same eyes-" Dumbledore replied, also sounding tired. But Snape's tirade was not over yet.

"And her name! What that woman called her! The owl's reaction! It's a bit obvious, isn't it!"

"That name is very common, Severus. And she may just be good with-"

"Her duelling style – the stance, the spells! They're so similar to his-"

"It is possible it is him." Dumbledore's tone told them that he was tired of the argument. "We'll soon discover if it's more than coincidence. The Sorting Hat will put her in Gryffindor if your suspicions are correct-"

_Bang!_ Harry jumped as McGonagall knocked on the door with more force than was necessary. She had totally forgotten McGonagall's presence, engrossed in listening to the scene unfolding in the office, which had fallen silent at the knock. She followed Sirius and McGonagall as they pushed open the door and walked in, nerves returning full force.

Dumbledore smiled at them as they entered, but Harry noticed the eye sparkle had dimmed, and he looked more tired than usual. Snape was stood beside him, arms crossed and scowl affixed in place. Hedwig was nowhere to be seen. Dumbledore pointed them to some seats, and they sat down, vaguely uneased by the overheard conversation.

"Good morning, Mrs Evans, Harriet," He nodded at them, and they nodded back. He turned to Harriet. "We've reviewed your performance yesterday and... we're pleased to offer you a place at Hogwarts. That is, if you still want it?"

Harry was still nervous, but forced a smile and nodded vigorously. It seemed to fool Dumbledore, as he continued. "Good, good! You just need to sign here-" He pushed a piece of paper towards her. "-then we'll get on with your sorting."

Harry signed the paper without even reading what it was. Her mind was completely buzzing with nerves as the time came for the partshe had been dreading the most – her Sorting.

McGonagall pointed her to the three-legged stool which had appeared as she signed the paper. The hat, as ragged and as limp as ever, hung from McGonagall's hand. The hat... the thing that could soon turn her life upside-down.

The nerves mounted as she walked towards the stool. She sat down shakily on the stool. Sirius' encouraging face was the last thing she saw until the hat's brim dropped over her eyes, and all she saw was blackness.

_Well, well, well..._ Harry jumped as the Hat spoke into her ear. She hadn't expected its voice to be that loud. _Back again, are we?_

_As someone different, _Harry thought back.

_Someone different...? Ah yes... I see._ Harry felt strangely vulnerable as the Hat rooted around her head. If the Hat noticed, it did not mention it, carrying on to search her head.

_So you're coming back as a female? Fascinating...And that's why... Hmm..._

_What's so fascinating? _Harry asked.

_Your reasons... I first sorted you into Gryffindor, yet this is the last thing I expected of a Gryffindor..._

_What do you mean? _She persisted, her stomach slowly sinking to her feet.

_Why are you running, Harry?_

_Running? I'm not running!_ Harry argued.

_You are running, Harry Potter. You're running away._

_No I'm not! She_ yelled in her mind.

_You're running scared. Scared of what others will think of your situation. You're running away from all your friends, your home, your __life__ because you're too frightened to tell them the truth. Where's your Gryffindor courage, Harry Potter? Where is it?_

_I-_ Harry could not answer.

_I thought as much._ The Hat sounded satisfied, something which irked Harry to no end. _Now back to your new Sorting... If not Gryffindor, where... I've told you before where you'd do well, Harry Potter-_

_I'm not going into Slytherin! _She interrupted.

_Hmm... Perhaps it would be the best place. The only place. You do not have the thirst for knowledge like a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff... well, your treatment of your friends explains that one... Yet..._

The Hat fell silent for a a while, and Harry sat underneath for what seemed like eternity before the Hat spoke again.

_What Hufflepuffs value the most is their loyalty to their friends. You are not leaving your friends, Harry Potter... You still want to protect them. You still want to speak to them. You will not let anyone harm them, even though they will not know who you are... You're keeping your situation from them, but you are still loyal to them._

_Yes,_ Harry replied. _Forever._

The hat seemed to sigh, before speaking again. _Do not lose your friends, Harry Potter. You will need them in the long run. HUFFLEPUFF!_

The last word was yelled out to the whole office. Harry tugged the Hat off her head. Everyone in the room was clapping (Sirius with a rather shocked look on his face), but Harry was feeling both disappointment and elation. She couldn't return to her bed in Gryffindor Tower any more. Yet the suspicion placed on Harry was lifted. They were sure if she was who they thought she was, she'd be in Gryffindor. And she was now in Hufflepuff. Harry vaguely heard Dumbledore's congratulations.

And she wasn't in Slytherin. That was good.

_Wasn't it? _Gigi's face floated in front of her mind once more.

As she and Sirius left, the Hat's words floated around her head. And Harry hated to admit it, but the words were true. So painfully true. In so many ways.

_You're running scared, Harry Potter._


	14. Chapter 14

Harry was very quiet on the way back from Hogwarts. Sirius tried to lead her into conversation about her Sorting several times, but Harry refused to speak about it, giving one or two word answers when prompted but nothing more. Sirius quickly realised Harry did not want to speak about it, and gave up, probably thinking Harry was upset about not being in Gryffindor.

This, however, was not Harry's problem. Her problem was the reasons why. In essence, the Hat had called her out on being a coward. And that was something she wasn't happy with.

Who faced Voldemort at only eleven years old? Her. Who faced and killed a basilisk at twelve? Her. Who had faced dragons and sphinxes last year? Her. _The Hat was wrong_, she thought to herself. _I am brave._

_Ah, _a snide voice in the back of her head told her, which sounded remarkably like the Sorting Hat. _But those were life or death situations. It wasn't bravery that got you through those, it was sheer instinct. If you did nothing, you would've died._

_But I could've run,_ Harry argued back. _I could've run from all those situations._

_No, you couldn't have, Harry Potter, _the voice hissed in her ear. _If you ran the first time, Voldemort would've killed you. If you ran the second time, the basilisk would've killed you and Ron. And for the third... Well, I doubt you could run without a wand and with a six-ton grave attached to your back._

Harry didn't reply. The voice gave a snort of triumph.

_And an example of where you could've run, and did... you've run twice from Slytherin. You've run scared from a mere House title. Two times, Harry Potter-_

_It's the house of Death Eaters. _Harry replied, not entirely convinced by her answer.

_You know already that's not true. Do you really think all eleven year old children are Marked?_

_They come from Voldemort-supporting families, then. _Harry argued desperately.

_You of all people should know that's untrue. _Harry thought of Gigi again, and of her Ravenclaw sister Su, but quickly squashed the thought

_She's an exception. _Harry thought, but the voice wasn't finished yet.

_And if ALL of Voldemort's henchmen are Slytherin, why is his left hand man a Gryffindor? _Harry knew it was speaking of the ratty Peter Pettigrew, who sold out her parents.

_I didn't mean ALL of them-_

_And if Slytherin is so bad, why is someone as 'good' as you was almost Sorted there?_

_I... Well... _Harry could see she was wrong, and nothing would change that. But still... If she was wrong... Why did she keep running from Slytherin? Why, when all it was... all it... it...

_An image of a small Muggle family rose unbidden in her mind, twitching and screaming, screaming so loud it rang in her ears. The child was fat and blond, very similar in appearance to the father. The mother was thin and dark-haired. With a sickening jolt, she realised the family stood at her feet were the Dursleys. She wanted to help them, so badly, but she couldn't move her arms at all nor any part of her body. _

_After a minute her arm raised, but Harry was horrified to see it was white and skeletal, and holding a wand. Harry tried to drop the wand, but the hand didn't want to let go. The wand was pointed them, who had now stopped screaming, but were gasping, swallowing for air-_

_"__Avada Kedavra.__" Harry felt her mouth move and a high pitch voice escape from it, a voice that wasn't her own. They each gave one final gasp, as the spell hit each of them in turn, before falling limp, sliding slightly across the wood floor they lay on. Harry turned, and saw Wormtail cowering in a red armchair in front of a b lazing fire._

_"Muggles. Such filth. Their lives will only be missed by the Order." Harry heard herself say to the coward in front of her._

_"The Order, my lord?" Wormtail asked her, and Harry was slightly confused. My lord?_

_"This, if you have not realised Wormtail, is Harry Potter's family. I was expecting to discover where the Order have hidden Harry Potter."_

_"Hidden? But he-" He jerked his head at Uncle Vernon. "-said-"_

_"I heard what they said, Wormtail." Harry snapped. "The potion did not affect my hearing." Wormtail recoiled at the rebuke. Harry carried on, her body now pacing._

_"It seems that Harry Potter has fled his home in Little Whinging." A laugh bubbled up inside of her, and Harry found herself cackling, loud and high, which would've sent a shiver down her spine if she could shiver her spine. "And the Order doesn't know where he is!"_

_Wormtail seemed to finally understand, and started to laugh along with her. Harry immediately fell silent._

_"No Wormtail, it does not work with both of us." Wormtail closed his mouth with an audible snap. Harry waved a bony hand at him. "No matter. Potter would not be able to hide even if I gave him an Invisibility Marquee. He is a stupid-" She kicked the head of Petunia. "-little-" She kicked the head of Dudley. "-boy, with an extraordinary amount of luck."_

_Harry..._

_Wormtail squeaked his agreement. Harry turned around, and Harry caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. There was no mistaking the red eyes and missing nose._

_Harry...?_

_"We will send out the Death Eaters to find him. It wont be long before we have Harry Potter in our grasp."_

_She cackled again, and the room spun as she laughed long and hard. The background was a blur, the flames leaping out of the grate to make a fiery whirlpool. A green light flashed, a woman screamed-_

"Harry!" Harry jerked, and the purple and wood furnishings of the Head Girl and Boy's carriage swirled back into focus, leaving her feeling slightly nauseated. Sirius was lent over her, the Polyjuice Potion worn off, looking extremely worried.

"Harry, are you alright?" Harry picked herself up from where she had half-fallen off the seat. The carriage spun slightly, but Harry could feel no vibrations. They must've arrived at the station.

"Yeah... Let's get off." Harry picked up her bag and walked into the corridor, pausing briefly to lean on the archway and regain balance. She made it onto the platform with no further problems, but as soon as she was safely in the middle of the platform, Sirius grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a pillar.

"Harry, what happened?" Sirius asked, eyes full of worry. "I thought you fell asleep, but then you started twitching and mumbling. And then you started yelling and thrashing, like you were in pain- and you wouldn't wake up, and- I tried, Harry, but you-"

_"_Sirius, calm down!" Harry told him sternly – his panicked ramblings were giving her a headache. "Don't worry, it was only a nightmare-"

"What about?"

"It was stupid, you don't need to worry about it-"

"Harry." Harry looked straight into Sirius' stormy grey eyes. "Whatever it is, I want to know. I can't stand here and not worry about something that affected you that much."

"But-" Harry saw that Sirius wouldn't budge on the matter and sighed, before explaining the dream. "I was Voldemort, you see, and I was torturing Dudley and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. I- well, he- killed them, then turned to Wormtail – Wormtail was there too – and said something about Muggle filth..." Harry faded off, racking her brains for details of the rapidly fading dream. Sirius smiled softly at him for him to carry on.

"Well, Voldemort had the because he wanted to know where I was. Of course, they didn't know where I was, but one of them told me- him that I'd run. Voldemort though I wasn't very good at hiding – that I only survived on luck – and I wouldn't survive without the Order at my back. Then he said was going to send out his Death Eaters to try and find me."

Sirius looked worried as she finished, but he leant forward and hugged Harry with all his might. "Harry, don't worry about it. From what we know, Voldemort doesn't know you've left the Dursleys. And there's a very small chance he knows you've gone, and even less of a chance that he'll recognise you like this."

Harry carefully pulled himself from the hug and gave Sirius a small smile. "It's ok. It's only a-"

She didn't finish her sentence. A small dot of pulsating white light caught her eye, and she openly stared at it. Sirius looked at what had caught her attention and his mouth fell open in surprise. The thing swirled and wavered, slowly growing bigger and bigger. It was now in the shape of a small bird and growing.

"Sirius... Is that a Patronus?"

"Yes, I think so... Oh!" The Patronus formed fully into a phoenix, which fixed its beady eye on Sirius. "It's Dumbledore's!"

"Dumbledore's?"

"Yeah... It must be important – he usually notifies us of meetings and things by warded owl..."

The pearly-white phoenix opened it's beak and started forming words. Dumbledore's usually melodic voice sounded grave as it drifted out of the beak.

"Emergency Order meeting, eight o'clock, Grimmauld Place. Voldemort has taken the Dursleys."


	15. Chapter 15

"Sirius-"

"No."

"It was only a dream, probably just coinciden-"

"Harry, I'm not letting you out of my sight, and that's final!"

Harry and Sirius were still stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The train had long vanished into a nearby shed, and its steam had gradually been fading, leaving the grey, deserted platform looking that much emptier.

They stood behind the pillar Sirius had dragged Harry behind as soon as she got off the train. After Dumbledore's call, they had stood in shock as they realised that Harry had dreamt exactly what happened. Sirius had then insisted that Harry not return to Larkhill, and instead stay with him in Grimmauld Place. If the first part was true, the second part could be too, was Sirius' reasoning, despite Harry's protests that she would be fine.

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that she _wanted_ to stay with Sirius, but Dumbledore had said the Order were meeting there... It meant that if Harry were to hide there, there would be a far greater chance of being caught. The Hat's words floated around her head again... _running scared_... before she squashed them down.

"Sirius, you know I want to stay with you, but I can't! If Dumbledore found out-"

"He won't find out, Harry! That's the brilliance of the plan!" an exasperated Sirius cried, eyes twinkling. "You'll be hiding in the one place Dumbledore won't expect you to be hiding!"

"But- but-!" Harry couldn't counter that. The plan was sheer insanity, but it was so insane nobody would see it coming. She sighed. "Fine. But-"

"Great!" Sirius grabbed her arm, and before she knew it, she was being squeezed through a tight tube with a small _crack_. It was as if there were ropes binding her chest and her skull was trying to pulverise her brain and that her toes were trying to crawl into her feet-

The floor suddenly arrived underneath her feet, and her torso hit it with a loud _thwack. _Groaning, Harry lifted her head, and found herself looking at her room above the pub. Sirius stood beside her, seemingly unaffected by their method of travel.

"Sirius, did- did we- _did we just Apparate?_" Harry wheezed, gingerly picking herself up off the floor.

"Of course we did."

"But how did you know where to Apparate?"

"I remembered the look of the room from the mirror. Now what's the time...? _Tempus_." His wand lit up and flashed the time at him. "Quarter past seven. Right, better start packing."

"...Fine." Harry leant down and started to tug everything from the floor and throw it into her bag. Sirius smiled for a minute, before raising his wand.

"Allow me." He waved his wand, and all Harry's clothes and items flew from around the room and dumped themselves in a pile in her bag. Even the odd sock he'd lost a few days ago came whizzing from behind the radiator.

Harry pulled herself from under the bed, where she had ended up after trying to pack manually. "You could've warned me, you know."

"It would take too much time. Now let's go-" Sirius went to grab her again, but Harry stepped out of range.

"Hang on, Sirius! I need to check out first!"

"Do you have to?"

"Yes! I can't just vanish!" Sirius sighed.

"Ok. Come on." Sirius practically ran to the stairs.

"Sirius!"

"What now?"

"You can't go down there!"

"Why not?"

"The Muggles still think you're a mass murderer!"

"So?"

"So? Someone's bound to recognize you! And I don't think anyone would take too kindly to a mass murderer in a dress, to be honest." Sirius looked himself up and down, momentarily forgetting he was still in his mother's dress and Mrs Weasley's overcoat.

"Oh."

"Sirius... Just stay here while I check out. Transfigure your clothes or something in the meantime." Sirius pouted miserably.

"Ok then. Hurry though – Order members start arriving at around half seven." Sirius stepped further into the room as Harry leapt out the door and down the stairs, taking two at a time and scaring Mrs Dolven half to death.

"Harry! Goodness gracious, you frightened me then!"

"Evening, Mrs Dolven. I'm afraid I'm going to have to check out." Her face fell.

"Oh dear, that's such a shame. And you were getting so good at the quizzes too!" Harry smiled slightly at the comment.

"I know, I'll miss them when I leave."

"Before you go though, could you go and meet this little girl in the bar? She's been pestering me all day as to where you were..."

Harry followed Mrs Dolven to the bar, and grinned. Gigi was sat on one of the barstools, her feet not even touching the ground. She grinned back at her when she spotted her, then jumped off the stool and hugged her around the middle.

"Harry! I thought you weren't coming back!"

"I was, Gigi. But I've got to leave again." Gigi looked up at her, brown eyes wide in sadness.

"But- but- I wanted to play 'British Bulldogs' again!"

"Gigi, there's only so many times I can be rammed into the ground. But don't worry – we'll play at school, yeah?" Gigi sniffed and nodded in reply.

"You go to the same school as Gigi here?" Mrs Dolven asked as she riffled through the drawers, looking for the sign out book.

"I do now – just been told I got in."

"Oh! You're transferring there?" Mrs Dolven found the book and handed it to Harry, along with a pen.

"Something like that." Harry signed the book, andded a comment and handed it back to Mrs Dolven. "I just need my stuff, then I'll be gone."

"Ok then, dear. Hope to see you soon!"

"Bye bye, Harry!"

"Bye Mrs Dolven. See you later, Gigi." She gave Gigi one last hug, kissed Mrs Dolven on the cheek and ran back up stairs again. Sirius was waiting, pacing anxiously. He'd managed to transfigure his clothes into something more respectable – a white blouse, black leather jacket and a kilt which looked more like a glorified skirt.

"You ready yet?" Harry tore her eyes away from the oddity that was Sirius in a kilt and nodded. "Then let's- Oh wait!" Sirius pulled his out his wand and tapped Harry with it. A feeling spread through Harry not unlike someone had just cracked an egg on top of her head.

"What was that?"

"Disillusionment Charm. Makes you invisible. Need it so I can get you past any early-arriving Order members. Unless Moody's there... Ah well." Sirius picked up his purse and Harry's rucksack and grabbed Harry, and she was forced through the tight tube of Apparition yet again.

Another sickening ride later, Harry stood in front of a row of old, dilapidated houses. Greyness seemed to seep through every crack and infect all things colourful. Even the poppies in the plant pot beside him seemed to be greyer.

Sirius did not examine the surroundings. Instead, he searched in his purse, reaching down to the very depths of the bag. He pulled out a dog-eared slip of paper and handed it to Harry, having to feel around first to find Harry's invisible hand.

"Read that."

With nothing else to do, she complied. It read;

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

It was neatly scripted and familiar, but Harry only knew it wasn't the writing of someone she wrote to on a weekly basis.

"Who-"

"Dumbledore. He's the Secret Keeper for this old dump." He nodded forwards, and Harry followed his gaze. She was astonished to see another house literally _grow _out of the side of another. Harry watched with morbid fascination as the house pushed aside the other houses with not so much as a twitch to disturb the neighbours.

"Come on!" Sirius made for the house. Harry followed behind him. They both walked through the door. The hallway past it was dark, but Harry could see there wasn't anyone waiting there.

"Through here... Keep quiet now... There's a room back here you can take..." Sirius whispered, leading him down a corridor. They walked it for a while, before turning left into an old library. A thin layer of dust gathered on everything, but Sirius walked past the bookshelves and strode straight to the back of the library. Here, there was an old wardrobe, also covered in dust. Sirius flung the doors open and stepped inside, pushing coats and other hanging items aside. Harry followed cautiously.

Harry had expected to see at best, a different part of the library, or at worst, the back of the wardrobe, but she was wrong. Instead, there was a small, light bedroom. It had everything - a single bed, made neatly, a full length mirror, a bedside cabinet, another door (which must lead to a separate bathroom, Harry thought to herself) and large French windows, which opened onto a small patio bordering an overgrown garden. Contrary to the library, this room had no dust at all.

"Nice, huh?" Sirius spoke from her side.

Harry was speechless, and did not reply.


	16. Chapter 16

Sirius had not stayed for long. He had only explained that this was his bookworm of an uncle's room, he would bring Harry food and that Harry was not to leave the Library at any cost. He had then handed Harry her bag and broomstick which he took from his purse, before scurrying from the room to the Order gathering in the entranceway, throwing the purse into a nearby seat.

Harry could understand why, but it painfully reminded her of Uncle Vernon's treatment of her three years ago. All Sirius needed to do was bar her from the library and install a cat flap on the cupboard door, and it would be exactly the same.

It was frustrating and boring after a while. After a few days, Harry had practically everything that was possible in the rooms. She had flown around the garden several times, blown bubbles with soap and water in the sink, read Dudley's old book of fairytales, flicked through her photo album... And now she was trying to read her way through the entire library.

The first few shelves were filled with magic and diagrams so grotesque it made Aunt Petunia's book on birth defects look like a child's picture-story. Needless to say, she swiftly moved on.

The shelves she had settled down to read must've belonged to one of the Black women – it was filled to the brim with romance novels. Despite Harry's misgivings, the first one she picked up happened to be rather interesting – a tale full of magic and not truly belonging, something Harry could fully relate to.

She read in the library, on a small seat beside a roaring fire. But it was difficult some days to concentrate. As the days went by, Harry realised that he, the Order and Sirius weren't the only occupants of the house. It seemed the entire Weasley clan and Hermione had moved in. It had given her quite a shock when she first heard Mrs Weasley yell "Dinner's ready!" and to hear several pairs of feet scurrying above her head.

It had taken all she had not to join them.

Often, Harry would be reading, and suddenly would hear their voices, calling, shouting and (in Ron's case) swearing. She'd force herself to turn back to her book and ignore them, ignore the ache in her chest and just read to see what Miss Eldroy would do next in the book.

Harry wasn't totally alone in the room, though. Sirius came in about three times a day with food for him, and sometimes a game they could play together. They usually only played one game together – Sirius couldn't vanish for long, lest Mrs Weasley notice his absence. It left Harry listlessly poking chess pieces and throwing Gobstones across the room.

The Order itself had a meeting every three days. Sirius said that it was never this often, until Harry vanished. They often gathered in the Entrance Hall, so she often got the chance to listen in on their conversation.

They tended not to discuss private business in the hall, but Harry heard some interesting conversations all the same. For instance, two witches whose voices she didn't recognise had a lively conversation about Chocolate Frog cards. McGonagall and Snape had gotten into an argument about who should've won this year's World Cup (McGonagall was adamant Scotland were well-deserved winners; Snape argued that Canada played better.). Lupin and Sirius had gotten into a discussion about her, and she was pleased to note Lupin was under the impression she was hiding out in the Welsh Mountains.

But after they all moved into another room, and the door was shut, it was silent. None of the Weasley children nor Hermione upstairs were moving. The floorboards didn't squeak, the curtains didn't flap and it seemed as if the entire house had stopped breathing.

It was this time she despised the most. It left her feeling... empty. Alone. It ached. A low, hollow ache that started in the chest and spread, causing everything to feel so _heavy_ and made her want to sleep and never wake up.

And yet she couldn't sleep. The vision she had on the train seemed to kick-start a whole plethora of problems. Her scar throbbed constantly, causing her to be shirty with Sirius more than once, who chalked it up to frustration. She also had begun to have nightmares.

Harry had suffered nightmares before. Before she'd become so preoccupied with whatever her body had started growing, her brain often wandered back to the graveyard where Cedric had been murdered. But these were different.

Some were about nothing at all, just waves and waves of endless pain which left Harry soaked in sweat and tears. There were some where she was Voldemort again, usually talking to Nagini or Wormtail, not doing much else, but when she woke it made her feel as if she had been doused in cold water. And then there were the ones with the door. Nothing special, just a wooden door in a stone wall, with a black doorknob, but that nightmare left Harry with that same empty feeling the Order meetings left him with.

All this was wearing her down, until all she wanted was to get up and walk out. She wanted to rejoin her old life, the one where she had one than one person to talk to, the one where she _trusted_ more than one person, the one where she knew her own body, the one where she could get help for her feverous nightmares...

All this bubbled over one night, around three weeks into her confinement. It was one of those times where the Order had moved to another room, and the lonely atmosphere was back. Harry was fine with it for a while, but soon it became all too much, and she lashed out.

The wizards chess set was the first to go, with a solidly aimed foot scattering its pieces across the floor. Next it was the small pile of books she had accumulated on the coffee table, which was swept aside with a growl, followed swiftly by the coffee table itself. Other things found themselves flying across the room – cushions, chairs, a pair of shoes...

Harry found herself hitting things with an all consuming frustration. She didn't care at the moment who heard her; she just had enough of everything, and damn them if they found her! She let out a feral scream as her fists met the elongated mirror that hung above the fireplace. It smashed at the contact, littering the ground with tiny pieces of glass.

When there was nothing left to destroy in the immediate vicinity, Harry turned towards herself. She pulled at her hair, threw herself into the wall and clawed at her breasts, wishing that she could have her _old life _back, with a normal male body, not some half-cocked attempt at both. She pulled until she drew blood, bit until the tears were running and tore at herself until she collapsed in agony and exhaustion, curled up in a small, bloodied ball, sobbing hysterically.

It was like this Sirius found her five minutes later, as he bought her some sandwiches Mrs Weasley had made. He'd taken one look around, take in the destruction, and had quickly figured out what had happened. He set the sandwiches on the table and walked over to her. He sat down beside her and, rather awkwardly, put his arms around her, as if he had never done this before.

It seemed to help, as Harry's shaking seemed to lessen. He held her for a while, until the tears stopped flowing, and the shaking had reduced to mere once-in-a-while tremors. And, at long last, Harry spoke.

"Sorry I broke your stuff, Sirius."

"It's ok. I never liked this place. I don't blame you for half-destroying it." They both surveyed the wreckage – the heeled shoes across the room, the pile of now-probably-damaged books and the mirror shards, glittering like a thousand fallen stars. Sirius spoke again, in a much more soothing voice.

"Changing body parts, new House, imprisoned in the library... it's all a bit much, wasn't it?" Harry nodded against his side, and he carried on speaking.

"I would've reacted in the same way you have, if the same happened to me. You've been strong, pup. But even the strongest of us are bound to break sometime."

"...Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Why did it happen like this?"

"I don't know, pup. I honestly don't kn-" Sirius stopped mid-sentence. They had both heard the squeak of the floorboard outside the door.

Sirius got up from the ground and approached the door cautiously. Harry watched him go with a mixture of worry and fear. The glass of the mirror crunched in the silence as Sirius stepped through it.

He had barely made it halfway across the room when the door swung back, and they could both see the eavesdropper as clear as daylight from the light in the hall.

Severus Snape was leant against the doorframe, eyes glinting malevolently.


	17. Chapter 17

It only took Sirius a moment to draw his wand.

"Snape!" he spat. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask Potter the same thing." His free hand gestured towards Harry, his other resting where Harry supposed his wand was concealed.

"Leave my home, Snivellus. I'm sure you have several cauldrons you could be dancing around right now." Snape ignored him, instead skirting around the furniture to get a better look at Harry. Sirius watched him carefully, vaguely waving his wand towards the door to shut it, seeing as Snape had decided he was not going anywhere soon.

"I'd prefer that open, Black."

"I'd prefer it shut."

They glared at each other, Snape having stopped walking and stood at one end of the sea of broken mirror glass. Suddenly, Snape snapped his head to look at Harry.

"How long have you been hiding here, Potter?"

"You don't have to answer him, Harry."

"He would have nothing to lose by answering me," Snape drawled. "Either way, I will turn the boy – or girl, should I say – in to the proper authorities, namely Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure he'llbe _delighted _to know what his pet mutt has dragged through the door-"

Within a few seconds, Sirius had marched up to Snape and thrust his wand into Snape's neck. Harry rose in alarm, but neither of the men noticed, too enthralled in their enmity to care about anything around them.

"You. Wouldn't. _Dare_. Tell. Albus." Sirius growled, a few sparks leaping out of his wand and landing on the pale skin of Snape's neck. Snape merely smirked and raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by the sparks.

"It's my word against a man's whose been _hiding_ in his mother's house."

"Are you calling me a _coward_?"

"Why, yes. Congratulations on noticing." Sirius snarled and pulled his wand back, preparing to throw a jinx at Snape, who had discreetly pulled out his wand. Harry had no idea what jinx he was planning to use, and wasn't about to sit around and find out. She darted across the sea of broken glass and pushed the two men apart. They staggered back, but before they could raise their wands again, Harry put herself between them.

"Potter, move!"

"Harry, get out the way!"

"No."

"But-"

"I said no!"

With a glare, Sirius lowered his wand, but did not relinquish his grip on it. But Snape had not finished.

"That's right Black, hide behind potter like the _coward _you are!" Black charged forward, but Harry stuck her arms out and pushed him back. The cuts and bruises on her body from her rage earlier stung painfully, but she managed to push him back.

"Sirius, don't let him get to you. He's bluffing about telling Dumbledore!"

"Weaker than a fifteen ye-" Harry had had enough of Snape's goading. She turned to face him.

"Snape, shut up!" There was silence. Sirius seemed not to believe that Harry had just said that to Snape. Snape had turned the colour of soured milk, and when he spoke again, it was with a quiet, silky warning tone.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I told you to be quiet, Professor," Harry bit back. Snape seemed to be ready to retort, but she carried on before he had a chance to.

"You're bluffing because you and I both _know _that Dumbledore would not believe you. No, you wouldn't just tell him 'Potter's hiding out in Black's library'. Who would believe that? I don't even think a _troll_ would believe it if someone it that. You and Dumbledore both saw my second Sorting. You both saw me go into Hufflepuff. Dumbledore would've never believed Harry Potter would be in anything but Gryffindor, and you know that. I don't think you thought for one second about telling Dumbledore."

"You're as arrogant as your father, thinking you can read everyone's minds-"

"Oh, give it up! Strangely enough Professor, I had more than one parent, since it takes two to make a child! You only see what you want to see – my mother's genes didn't just _vanish _into thin air, you know!"

Snape remained silent, glaring at Harry. Sirius' jaw was hanging open loosely, completely unprepared for the onslaught of words Harry threw at Snape. Harry was breathing like she had just run a marathon, but she hadn't finished yet.

"Knowing you Professor, you'd probably send Dumbledore in here on the off chance I'm sat in plain view. But by the next time Dumbledore gets here, I may have already left. Seeing as it took one of the Order six weeks to find me the first time, how long do you think it will take the Order to find me a second time?"

"The Order are _wasting_ resources on finding you, Potter! Resources that could soon be used on recruiting and training new members!" Snape replied, opting for a new tactic of guilting Harry to show herself.

"I think it's high time the Order realized I have no desire to be found."

"Potter-"

"The door is there, Professor." Harry pointed in the general direction of the exit. "You either help, or you leave and forget you ever saw me. You know full well that anyone you tell will consider you a madman."

Snape looked at her for a while, before turning and fleeing the scene. The door shut with a _bang _as Snape vanished through it. Another _bang _signified Snape departure through the front door. Harry faintly heard a loud screaming coming from the hall. Sirius did too, and rushed out to silence whatever it was, before coming back to the library.

"Harry... what on _earth _happened there?"

"No idea, to be honest. Though I didn't expect Snape to comply that easily."

"No wonder. You sounded exactly like your mother then."

"My mother? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"But how does that have anything to do with Snape complying? Unless he was _scared_ of my mother..." Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

"Harry, I doubt anyone _wouldn't _be frightened of your mother when she was angry. But it's not that. Snape used to be good friends with your mother, until he made a mistake that cost them their friendship."

"What was it?"

"He called her a Mudblood."

"No..." A fresh surge of hatred for the man bubbled up inside her.

"Yeah." Sirius replied grimly. "Little bugger. Anyway, I suppose you yelling at him reminded him of Lily. You may have just altered his perception of you."

"I highly doubt it, Sirius. He's as stubborn as a donkey, he is."

"True. Did you want your tea, by the way?" Sirius indicated towards the plate of sandwiches he bought in earlier. Harry nodded, suddenly noticing how ravenous she was. Sirius indicated for her to sit on the sofa as he went to get the tray.

"We'd better sort out your injuries too. They're not that bad – I'll get some salve from upstairs for the cuts and bruises- Good _lord_!" Sirius stared at Harry, nearly dropping the sandwiches in the process. "What did you do to your _feet?_"

Harry looked down, and saw exactly what he meant. Harry's feet were bare – having thrown her shoes across the room in the rage – and the bases of them were covered in blood, which was dripping. The glass from the broken mirror must've cut them when she ran across it.

"It must've been the broken mirror-"

"The mirror? Damnit, you might have glass in your foot... Hang on-" Sirius raised his wand and drew a large arc with it. "_Reparo Totem!_"

The coffee table righted itself. The books pulled their pages back together before fluttering up to rest on the coffee table. The mirror's shards glittered as they rose into the air and affixed themselves back together in the frame, a few cracks showing the missing glass that was embedded in Harry's feet.

Sirius then went to the door and Summoned a few things. When he came back, Harry saw he was holding a bowl and a tin that probably held the salve. A flask of pumpkin juice, cups and the sandwiches floated behind him.

"Put some of that on the cuts and bruises." Sirius handed Harry the salve, who started putting copious amounts on all the wounds. It was cool to the touch and smelled like strawberries. Sirius busied himself by placing the bowl on the floor and everything else on the coffee table.

"_Aguamenti! Fervaer!" _The first spell filled the bowl with water. Harry didn't see what the second one did apart from make bubbles in the water, until Harry felt the heat rise from the bowl. She still had no idea what it was for, though.

"Sirius, what's the bowl for?"

"It's so it hurts less when we get the glass out of you foot. Now put your feet in." Harry was still confused but followed his orders, reaching for a sandwich at the same time. It was around half an hour later when Sirius told her to pull her feet from the bowl and put them on the transfigured towel he'd just made.

"Will it hurt much?"

"A bit." Sirius settled himself at Harry's feet and pointed his wand at her feet.

"_Accio glass!_" 'A bit' was an understatement and a half for how much it hurt to have the glass pulled out. It was a mixture of burning and having the inside of her foot pulled out. _If this is what it feels like with the water_, Harry thought to herself. _I'd hate to know what it's like without._

"_Accio glass! Accio glass!" _The glass zoomed out of her foot and into Sirius' cupped hand for about three minutes. By the end, Harry's feet felt as if they'd been flayed within an inch of their lives. Sirius took the salve and rubbed it onto her feet, which made them feel slightly better, but they still stung like hell.

As she gingerly walked back to her room to bed, Harry couldn't help but think what Snape might do next. She couldn't be sure whether he'd taken her threat of leaving seriously or not. If he had not, Snape may just walk in with Dumbledore and 'happen' to find her...

_I'll discuss it with Sirius tomorrow_, she decided, turning out the light.


	18. Chapter 18

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. Sirius seemed to know Harry planned on discussing Snape afterwards, and seemed to sip his coffee as slowly as possible. Harry also ate slower, knowing they had to discuss it, but not really wanting to. But there were only so many drips you could get out of the bottom of a coffee mug, and only so many toast crumbs you could pick from a plate, but soon they set down their things and sat in silence.

It was Sirius who broke the silence. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. The salve's healed pretty much everything." Harry knew this wasn't what Sirius was talking about, but still tried to stave off the inevitable.

"You know that's not what I meant." _So much for staving off the inevitable_, Harry thought.

"I... honestly don't know Sirius. I suppose... I should be worried that Snape knows, but... I'm not."

"Not?"

"Well, not as much as I expected." Sirius raised an eyebrow, and Harry elaborated. "I mean, I haven't a doubt that Snape will keep this to himself, but I'm not sure whether he thinks I'm leaving or not."

"Are you leaving?"

"Should I?" Harry turned and looked at her godfather. His grey eyes were saddened.

"I hope you don't leave."

"But what if Snape does take someone in here? What if someone finds me? What then, Sirius?"

"No-one will find you."

"How do you know?"

"You leave for Hogwarts in two days. Which means Dumbledore will be in Hogwarts, preparing with all the other teachers. Meaning no Order meetings while you're here."

"But-"

"Harry, there's no way Snape could get someone to catch you. He won't be here to do anything."

"You sure?"

"Almost positive." Sirius smiled encouragingly at Harry, and she smiled back, but it faded as she was suddenly reminded of something.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"What should I do about my school stuff? I haven't got any books, nor robes-"

"Don't worry, I've got that sorted. Molly's buying you everything."

"Mrs Weasley? You've told Mrs Weasley I'm here?"

"No! I asked her to get you your books and robes, under the pretence that I was going to try and send you it. I told her I wanted to make sure you had everything if you went back to Hogwarts."

"Oh! Thanks, Sirius. But will the robes fit, seeing-" Harry gestured at herself. Sirius looked her up and down before comprehending.

"I'd think so... You're not that big, but the robes might be a bit... tight."

"Ok... Will they be the right colour?"

"Yeah. Haven't you noticed that you buy them black and they change colour when you get on the train?"

"No, I haven't... By the way, how will I get to the platform?"

"We'll walk, of course. We're in the middle of London, Harry – it's only a twenty minute walk. We'll have to set out earlier than the Weasley's though – I can't be sure whether Mad-Eye can see past Disillusion Charms..."

"That should be- Wait, we?"

"Yes, we. I'm going with you."

"Are you sure? I mean, Mad-Eye's bound to recognize you on the platform, even if you're in your Animagus form."

"Hmm... I might have some Polyjuice Potion. I'll use that, I think." Harry could tell Sirius had made the plan off the top of his head, but before she could call him out on it, a yell came from outside the room.

"Sirius!" It was Mrs Weasley, and from the tone of voice Harry could tell she wasn't happy. Sirius leapt from the sofa as if he'd been hexed, and nearly ran to the door. Before he left, he turned and addressed her.

"Harry, don't panic. I'll have everything sorted by the time you have to go. See you at lunch!" He then fled the room, leaving Harry alone with the empty breakfast plates.

**Hey,it'sabreak!Ain'tseenoneofthoseinalongtime.**

The plan, much to Harry's surprise, succeeded without a hitch. Sirius managed to smuggle him the equipment Mrs Weasley had bought her earlier, including a new trunk, and it was at the bright hour of half-past nine on September the first that Harry found herself being shaken awake by Sirius, already Polyjuiced. They had eaten breakfast at light-speed and Harry changed into her new robes, before sneaking out of the house before Mrs Weasley could catch them – Harry could hear her pottering about in the kitchen below.

As soon as Grimmauld Place was out of sight, it was if many weights had been lifted off Sirius' shoulders. He walked taller and was grinning broadly. He acted as if he would never see daylight again (which, Harry thought, was quite possible). He'd pull Harry off the beaten path to point out random things Harry took for granted – parks, the river, Tower Bridge, oddly-shaped trees – and often dragged Harry with him to do random things in the street, including skipping and doing an impromptu dance to the music from a nearby busker.

Harry could not think of a time she had enjoyed travelling to the station so much. She laughed at Sirius' antics, and humoured him by joining in, which turned out to be much more fun than she originally anticipated. It took twice as long to reach the station than Sirius predicted it to be, but it was so entertaining neither person cared.

Despite their detours, they arrived on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters much earlier than most students. There were a few people beside themselves on the platform, mostly small families and students who were alone. Harry could see Malfoy and his parents close to the front of the train, in deep discussion. A deep wave of loathing engulfed her, but she forced herself to turn away and watch other families arrive.

The stream of people entering was slow at first, and quite boring. Sirius started betting on what student from which House would come in next, and Harry joined him, until the entrance was flooded with people entering and they couldn't tell who had just come in.

"Time to get on, pup." Sirius spoke from her side, and Harry detected a hint of sadness in his voice. She turned to him and hugged him close. Sirius gruffly returned it, before pulling away and pushing her towards the train. She climbed into the scarlet carriage, heaved her trunk up, then Sirius shut the door behind her. True to Sirius' word, her black robes grew gold trimmings, the tie changed to gold and black and the crest of Hufflepuff grew on the chest pocket of her shirt. She turned, and hung out the window to talk to Sirius, revelling in the feeling that she was returning to Hogwarts.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye. I guess I won't be seeing you for a while." Sirius said bracingly, but Harry could see the sadness in his eyes.

"Maybe you can come up to Hogsmeade for the day? To see me."

"Under Dumbledore's watch? I doubt it."

"Oh... I'll speak to you every day on the mirror, if you want." Sirius laughed.

"If you feel like it. I'll always be here to talk." Harry smiled at that.

"You sure you'll be alright, Sirius?"

"I'll be fine. Don't you worry. You be careful, alright?"

"I will. Seeing as I'm not famous anymore, perhaps I'll get through the year without any stares or danger."

"Danger, perhaps. Stares, not so much. Look." Sirius nodded his head over to a group of Hufflepuffs, who were staring avidly. Harry recognised some of the faces, such as Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley. She turned back to Sirius.

"Ok, maybe I'll have to still deal with the stares." They both laughed, as the train blew its whistle, and slowly started to move. Harry held her hand out of the window. Sirius smiled, and grasped it in his own. He walked along the platform with her hand in his, until the train got too fast and he let go, waving at him from the platform. Harry waved back, until the train turned and Sirius was out of sight.

Harry pulled her trunk down the corridors in search of a compartment, not knowing where to sit. This would be the first time she rode the Express without being able to sit by someone she knew. It was rather frightening. She pulled her luggage through the people crowding the corridor, until-

"Harry! HARRY!" Harry turned to the compartment she just passed. Gigi was hanging out the door, waving to her frantically.

"Hi! Come and sit with me!"

"Err... Okay." Gigi vanished back inside the compartment, and Harry followed. She heaved her trunk up into the overhead storage and sat down opposite Gigi, who had curled up with a small cat in her arms.

"How was your summer, Gigi?"

"Oh, it was boring after you left. Sisi didn't speak to me, and Mummy was busy with work. But Daddy took me shopping! He bought me a kitten, see? I named him Bohai."

"Bohai?"

"Yeah, after Daddy. Daddy's name is Bohai."

"Really? That's- ouch!" A flash of pain shot through Harry's scar. She clapped a hand to it, screwing her eyes shut. Once it had gone, Harry opened them again, to find Gigi looking at her, concerned.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," She grimaced. "Just a bit of a headache."

She wiped her fringe to the side and rubbed her scar absentmindedly. But she froze in her ministrations at Gigi's next remark.

"You know, you have a scar that's exactly like Harry Potter's."


	19. Chapter 19

Harry tried to act normally. "Oh, do I? I never noticed."

"Yeah! I've always wanted one like his!" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"

"Well, no... I wanted you to feel better about it, 'cause it's ugly."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I've got something which you can cover it with, though!" Gigi wiggled around to reach her pockets. "Here we go- Oh, sorry Bohai!" Whilst wiggling, she managed to dislodge Bohai, who fell to the ground with a pitiful _meow_. She pulled a peach tube from her pocket and threw it over to Harry, before picking Bohai up and settling him on her lap again.

Harry opened the tube. Inside was a sort of creamy gunk, coloured a few shades darker tan her skin tone. Under Gigi's watchful gaze, Harry dipped her finger in it and spread it over the scar, its cool temperature soothing the residual ache a little.

"Is that better?"

"It looks as if you just covered it in crayon. Here-" Gigi lent over with one hand, grasping her cat in the other, and smoothed the cream out a little more. "There we are. You shouldn't be able to notice it with your fringe down-" Harry dropped her fringe. "No, you can't see it unless you look."

"Oh good. Thanks for the... stuff."

"Concealer." Gigi rolled her eyes. "How do you not know that?"

"Well-" Harry was saved from answering by someone entering the compartment. For a split second, Harry expected it to be Malfoy for his usual train-ride goading, but the robes were yellow trimmed, not green. Harry looked at the face and recognised the person as Susan Bones.

"Err– hi." She said.

"Hi." Harry replied back. There was an awkward pause.

"Well, um- I remember seeing you earlier, on the platform and, well, I didn't recognize you. And, um, I was down with the boys, down the end of the train, but you know how boys get, so I left and I remembered seeing you and I thought, well, I'd introduce myself and join you. That is, if you want me to join you."

"Yeah sure. I'm fine with it. Is it ok for her to join us, Gigi?"

"Sure." Gigi replied. Susan jumped, having not noticed another presence in the compartment.

"Oh! I didn't see you there! Your name's Gigi?"

"Yeah, and this is Bohai." Gigi pointed at the cat on her lap. Susan cooed at Bohai, reaching out to pet him. Harry was rather surprised Susan would be associated with a Slytherin and her pet, until she noticed the lack of green on Gigi – she hadn't changed into her robes yet.

"He's so cute! Wh- Oh! I haven't introduced myself!" Susan sat down beside Gigi and turned to Harry. "My name's Susan."

"I'm Harry."

"Nice to meet you. You're a transfer, aren't you?"

"Umm... Yeah. Something like that." Susan opened her mouth to question her, but seeing that Harry wasn't about to speak anymore about it, she changed the subject. Outside, the grey city of London slowly faded into muddy fields. Sometimes, the odd small town flashed past the window, but the main view was of hills, grass and cows.

The lunch trolley inside the train had already rattled its way past, and now, according to Susan's watch, it was nearing half past six. The sky outside was dark, and made it near impossible to see anything outside. Harry and Susan were deeply immersed in playing a game of wizard's chess, with Gigi playing with the pieces that had been taken off the board. Bohai the cat sat beside the board, tail twitching as he watched Susan's queen try and take one of Harry's particularly stubborn knights. The cat looked up as the compartment door opened, but all the teenagers in the compartment were too busy concentrating on their respective games to notice.

"-just throw him off you stupid thing, he's not that strong-"

"Perhaps you should try taking another piece-"

"Just because I'll checkmate you when your knight dies-"

"Susan?" Susan looked up from the game and finally realised who was at the door.

"Oh, Hannah! Megan! Come in, come in..." Susan, packing the chessboard away, scooted closer to Gigi, who looked up to see what all the fuss was about. Hannah sat down beside Susan, leaving the girl called Megan to sit beside Harry, who had scooted up to the window.

"Thank heavens! We were worried when we couldn't find you!" Hannah exclaimed, giving Susan a one armed hug.

"Yeah," Megan said from Harry's side. "Thought you'd gotten lost. Again."

"There wasn't need to worry, guys. I was with these two." Susan pointed at Harry and Gigi. "That's Harry, and that's Gigi. Harry, Gigi, this is Megan, and this is Hannah."

Harry and Gigi both gave small waves. Hannah gave a wave back, but Megan neatly caught Harry's hand with a high five. When all necessary introductions were made, Susan turned to Hannah and Megan.

"Where wereyou two?"

"Well I was up front with Ernie in the prefect's carriage, while _she-_" Hannah nodded towards Megan. "-was getting close and personal with one of the Weasley twins-"

"I was not!" Megan interrupted. "I only went to see Frankie, who was with them-"

"Yeah, and ended up _snuggled _under his arm-"

"I wasn't _snuggled_ under his arm; I was sitting perfectly normally-"

"With your head on his shoulder!"

"Will we be seeing little redheads with Welsh accents soon, Megan?" Susan said, eyes gleaming.

"Oh, shut up!" They all laughed. Megan scowled. "It's not as bad as what I saw _Hannah _doing at the Yule Ball with Zacharias Smith-"

"We were just a bit tipsy-"

"On what, pumpkin juice?"

"What were they doing that was just so _scandalous_, Megan?"

"Zach's hand was in a very inappropriate place-"

"You just looked at the wrong time-"

Harry watched them bicker with a bemused look on her face. It reminded him of Ron and Hermione bickering, except nicer...The thought of Ron and Hermione sent an ache of longing through her chest. She willed it away, telling herself that she'd see them soon, that perhaps she'd make friends with them in this form, and maybe tell them what happened-

The compartment door opened again, and Harry saw Ernie's curious face appear in the doorway, Justin's looking over his shoulder. The girls stopped bickering to welcome them.

"Ernie! Justin! Where are the other boys?"

"They're just behind us," Ernie said, stepping into the compartment. "Is there any room for us all?"

"Probably, if we squish in a bit..." The compartment was obviously only meant for six people, but somehow, they managed to fit Harry, Megan, Ernie and Justin on one side, Gigi, Susan Hannah and Zacharias Smith on the other with Bohai the cat on Gigi's lap, and two boys whose names Harry couldn't place sat on the table in between them.

"You must be new here," Harry heard Ernie say to her once they'd all settled. "I'm Ernie Macmillan." He stuck his hand across Megan and Harry shook it.

"I'm Harry."

"And you? I don't think I've met you before." Ernie said, turning to Gigi.

"I'm Gigi." Ernie held his hand out to her, and she shook it, a blush staining her cheeks.

"Nice to meet you all. You probably don't know the boys yet, do you? No..." Ernie asked, not giving Harry nor Gigi enough time to answer.

"This is Justin-" Justin gave a small wave from Ernie's other side. "That's Zach-" Zacharias nodded at them both. "-and those two on the table are Stephen and Wayne." Stephen and Wayne gave them both thumbs up.

"Right then, now were all acquainted, what's been happening?"

"Megan's been getting it on with one of the Weasley twins-"

"I have not!"

"So have-"

Harry found that talking with the Hufflepuffs was quite different from talking to Ron and Hermione. While Ron and Hermione talked events and about Voldemort, the Hufflepuffs were quite happy discussing school life and their summer holidays. Harry found their conversation quite refreshing. It drew her attention from the outside world for a while, made her forget about her changes, made her forget about Voldemort, made her feel like an actual teenager, instead of a so-called hero...

"Good lord, we're almost there!" Hannah cried, looking out the window. Harry followed her gaze, and saw the glittering lights of Hogwarts light up the darkness outside, and felt the train slow down. She felt a rush of joy at the sight.

"We'd better get changed, then." Susan said, before making a shooing motion with her hands. "Come on boys, out you go!" Ernie, Justin, Zach, Stephen and Wayne all slid out of the compartment, Wayne pulling the door shut behind him.

This left Harry belatedly realising that she would soon be in the presence of four topless girls.

_Oh bloody hell!_ Harry thought to herself. She hadn't banked on seeing girls getting changed in front of her. Hermione always left the compartment to get changed. Having girls change in front of you was a boy's dream come true – but for Harry, it was quickly becoming her worst nightmare.

The changing itself wasn't as bad as Harry thought it would be – the girls stripped of and got changed quicker than she and Ron used to. Even seeing Megan's lacy underwear and having to think very hard about disgusting potions ingredients wasn't that bad.

But the worst thing was the fact that they _talked _while changing.

"You worried about your OWLS, Harry?" Susan asked while pulling off her t-shirt.

"Err- Just a bit," Harry replied, not knowing where on earth to look with a topless Susan in front of him. "Who, um, isn't?"

"Honestly, my knees are shaking just thinking of them." Hannah said from her corner, pulling a skirt up around her hips.

"I know! It's worrying seeing as these will affect our future so much!"

"Yeah... thought of a career yet, Megan? Or are you still sticking with the professional prostitute idea?"

"I never wanted to be a professional prostitute!" Megan said indignantly from beside Harry.

"I think your choice of knickers tells an entirely different story." Susan snickered.

"Will you please not stare at my backside, Susan?"

"Well, it's not my fault it's sticking in the air for everyone to see- Hey Gigi, you didn't tell us you're in Slytherin!" Gigi looked up worriedly from where she was doing up her tie.

"Yeah, I am. Is that a problem?"

"Oh no, none at all!" Susan backtracked quickly. "I was just thinking, you're really nice and all-"

"There are nice people in Slytherin you know." Gigi replied solemnly. "We're not all Death Eaters."

"Of course not, that wasn't what I was thinking-"

"Really?" Gigi raised her eyebrow.

"Well, yes I was but-" Susan stuttered to a halt as Gigi broke into a grin.

"Don't worry, I get that a lot. Don't judge us before you know us, ok?" Susan nodded, and turned back to her pinafore.

Once the entire changing ordeal was over, Harry sighed with relief. She thanked her past self a million times for dressing in her school robes that morning. But as she followed Hannah, Susan, Gigi and Megan out of the compartment and into the bustling corridor, she couldn't help but groan at the thought that she'd have to face the changing conundrum every day for the next two years.


	20. Chapter 20

The ceiling of the Great Hall was filled with the night sky when Harry walked in with the Hufflepuffs. The usual candles floated in the air around them, the same silver platters sat on the same long tables and Harry could almost kid herself that everything was normal again. Gryffindor's table was at the far end, and she could see Ron's red hair and Hermione's bushy brown at the nearest end, facing the doors. They'd look up in a minute and see her, and wave her over...

"This way, Harry," Susan called cheerfully, completely unaware of the daydream Harry was having. Harry shook her head and followed Susan to the Hufflepuff table. She sat down facing the Gryffindor table, nearly opposite to Ron and Hermione, who kept their heads down and were talking quietly. She felt another pang of longing, but distracted herself by looking around the Great Hall.

Cho Chang sat directly behind her, chattering to Su Li and some of her friends. Further along there was a group of Ravenclaw boys, Terry Boot amongst them, then there was a young, misty-eyed girl at the end, apart from the others. At the Slytherin table, Gigi had sat down at one end, accompanied by a tall, austere looking girl and a smaller, stockier boy. Malfoy was further along, looking positively gleeful as he discussed something with Crabbe and Goyle, with Pansy Parkinson hanging off his arm.

Up at the staff table, a group of female professors were in an intense discussion. Snape was beside them, staring at Harry, who was forcibly reminded that he knew and was probably planning a way to out her to Dumbledore. There was a space next to him, then there was Dumbledore, scanning the hall with a frown. A very pink, toad-like woman was sat in the next seat, followed by Flitwick and Sprout who were talking good-naturedly, next to an elderly witch with close-cropped hair. There was no sign of the bulk of Hagrid.

_No Hagrid?_ Harry scanned the table again. It was impossible not to miss the bulk of Hagrid, but she had to make sure. Sure enough, Hagrid wasn't there.

Wondering where he was, Harry turned her head and scanned the Gryffindor table. She soon wished she hadn't, for each recognizable face felt as if someone had thrown a Quaffle at her gut – Colin and Dennis Creevey, animatedly telling a story to a few second-years, Lee Jordan, who sat with the Weasley twins, Angelina Johnson, part of her old Quidditch team...

She carried on looking, until she reached Ron and Hermione again. Neville had joined them, as had Ginny. They all looked tired and haggard – Hermione looked as if she had been crying. Harry watched them, a sense of sadness pooling in her stomach, until she found herself staring into Hermione's brown eyes. They stared at each other for a minute, Harry memorising her features, Hermione just staring with her mouth agape-

"Who are you looking at, Harry?" Wayne enquired, turning to try and follow her line of sight. Harry looked down, but it was too late - Wayne had noticed who she was looking at.

"Oh, you're looking at Ron and Hermione?"

"Ron and Hermione?" Ernie interrupted, leaning in to join their conversation. "Did you hear what happened over the summer? Dreadful, dreadful business..."

"Why, what happened?" Harry asked, stealing another glance at Hermione. Hermione was shaking her head, as if dispelling a strange thought. Beside Hermione, Ron was looking curiously at Harry.

"Well," Ernie started, drawing Harry's attention back to him. "There was all this trash-talk about Harry Potter in the Daily Prophet, about how he was lying, attention-seeking boy and all that sort of nonsense, which must've hit them pretty hard-"

"But then," Justin joined in the conversation, continuing Ernie's narrative. "About five weeks ago, Harry Potter just vanished! Poof!" Justin waved his hands to indicate Harry's vanishing act.

"Everyone's been searching all over for him," Ernie took over again. "It's been all over the Prophet. Of course, they've all been calling him a coward, saying he's running away from his 'duty'-"

"-Which is absolute rubbish." Hannah interrupted. "I mean, he's what? Fifteen? And he's expected to defeat the Darkest wizard of all time. I mean, how does that work?"

"Well," Zach said. "He's managed alright against him so far."

"It doesn't mean he should be the _only _one to kill him!" Hannah answered back heatedly. "I mean, that's like condemning a child to a life of murder!"

"Would it be murder?" Megan asked. "Or would it be sanctioned killing?"

"Why, thinking of killing someone, Megan?" a voice above them said. Harry turned around and saw a crop-haired Hufflepuff girl behind her. The girl dropped unceremoniously into the seat beside Megan.

"You're late, Frankie," Megan frowned at her.

"I know. Fred and George thought it would be funny to stick me to my seat and leave me on the train." The entire crew of Hufflepuffs burst out laughing. The girl named Frankie mock-scowled before giving into laughter.

"Anyway," Frankie commented, once they'd all calmed down. "You haven't introduced me to your new friend yet!" She pointed at Harry.

"You can introduce yourself, you know." Susan said.

"Yeah, but that's boring."

"So?" Frankie gave a long-suffering sigh before turning to Harry.

"Hi, I'm Frankie."

"I'm Harry."

"Harry, hey? Short for Henrietta, right?"

"No, Harriet."

"No wonder you shortened it. My full name's Francesca, and I shortened it. Both our full names are horrible. Old and stuffy. Blergh." Frankie shivered. Harry hadn't a clue how to answer her, but luckily the Entrance Hall doors swung open at that moment, and McGonagall entered with the first years.

Harry paid no attention to the Sorting Hat's song, preferring to watch Ron and Hermione on the other table, who were listening to the Sorting Hat intently. It was only when the room filled with applause and, for the first time in Harry's memory, whispers, that she paid attention to what was being said.

"-I hope that doesn't mean something totally bad is going to happen." Stephen was saying worriedly.

"The Sorting Hat hasn't given a warning before in my memory." Frankie whispered.

"But it's very nice of it to give us a warning-" Hannah whispered back.

"Hannah it's a hat." Zach snorted derisively. "How does it know if something's going to happen?"

"I'm sure it hears a lot of things up in Dumbledore's office-"

"Personally," Megan quietly spoke up. "I think it's trying to get all the Houses to give up their rivalries and make friends-"

"Make friends? Not with them lot, I'm not." Zach bit back, nodding towards the Slytherin table.

"I happened to meet a girl on the train. She was Slytherin, and she was very nice." Susan fired up, but before she could have a go at Zach, McGonagall fixed their end of the table with a cold glare. Susan fell silent.

The Sorting went on without incident. Susan seemed to have forgotten her earlier irritation with Zach, and was now discussing some inane subject with Hannah and Stephen as they piled their plates high with food. Frankie, Megan, Wayne and Zach were discussing Quidditch beside him. Justin and Ernie were talking quietly further up the table. Harry quietly ate her way through Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes, listening intently to whatever conversation was loudest at the time, and stealing glimpses of Ron and Hermione from time to time.

Harry was feeling pleasantly full as the silver plates wiped themselves clean. She was lazily watching Megan and Stephen have a miniature poke war when silence descended over the Great Hall. Dumbledore had stood up to make his speech.

She noticed at once that Dumbledore looked wearier than usual. His wrinkles seemed to have deepened, and the twinkle in his eyes was muted. But he still smiled at them all, and spread his arms wide as if to embrace them all.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too." Harry smiled slightly – she'd been in the Forest too many times to count.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a small round of applause. "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

He stopped speaking. The pink toad-woman, who Harry supposed was Professor Umbridge was on her feet, though not many people noticed it as she wasn't much taller than when she was sitting. But the little _hem hem_ made it clear that she was about to make a speech. Dumbledore sat down, as Umbridge made her way to the front.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, her voice breathy and girlish. "For those kind words of welcome." She shuffled slightly and let out another _hem hem_. Harry could tell that the _hem _hem's were going to grate on her last nerve.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

"Who does she think we are?" Frankie whispered, looking disgusted. "Five-year-old toddlers?"

Umbridge let out another _hem hem _and continued speaking, but there was a much more business tone to her voice than before.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts..." Harry switched off and paid no attention to Umbridge. She instead focused on Megan and Stephen, who had started their poke war again. Ernie was looking up at Umbridge, but his eyes were glassy – Harry doubted he was listening at all.

Harry was only drawn out of her stupor when a great clattering and banging reached her ears – Dumbledore must've dismissed the school.

"Come on, Harry. I'll show you to our dorms." Susan said, leading the way out of the Great Hall. Whilst following Susan from the Hall, Harry heard Ron shout over the din "Oi! Midgets!" – H_e must've been chosen a prefect,_ Harry thought to herself.

Harry had not much time to think on it as Susan led Harry down some steps, and Harry had to focus her brain onto remembering the way. They were walking down a rather well lit corridor towards a barrel-shaped painting when Harry felt a tug on the back of her robes, and found herself flying backwards into an empty classroom. The door clicked shut behind her. Harry wheeled around to see who her ambusher was.

It was none other than Severus Snape.


	21. Chapter 21

"You could've asked, you know." These were the first words that tumbled out of Harry's mouth when she finally got over the shock of being unceremoniously dragged into a classroom.

"Don't be insolent, Potter," Snape said without turning around, busy making a complex movement with his wand at the door. Harry heard the door seal itself with a quiet _squelch._ It looked as if Harry wasn't getting out until Snape let her. Snape, once satisfied with his handy work, turned and looked at Harry with a particularly piercing stare.

"Why are you hiding behind a Glamour Charm, Potter?"

"Er- what?" Harry had no idea what a Glamour Charm was, but suspected it was something to do with appearance-changing.

"Glamour Charm. Why?"

"I've never cast one, sir."

"Don't play stupid with me, Potter-"

"I've never cast one, and I'm not hiding behind one." Snape looked at her sceptically. "Honestly sir, you can try and remove it if you want."

Snape pulled his wand. Harry tried not to flinch as he raised the wand at her, but he quickly drew a sweeping curve in the air. The spell felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her head, and she shivered.

But Snape was not finished yet. He jabbed, flicked and slashed his wand though the air, sometimes muttering words and sometimes performing the counter-spells silently. The different spells had different effects – while the first felt like cold water, the second felt like a cool breeze on a summer's day. Another felt like pins and needles, while the next felt as if someone was constantly pinching her skin. Finally, Snape exhausted his knowledge of counter-spells and lowered his wand, face blank.

"What on _earth_ have you done to yourself, Potter?"

"Not a clue, sir. I wouldn't be like this if I had a choice. And it's Evans now, Professor. Not Potter."

Snape looked at him, before flicking his hand as if waving off an irksome fly. "No matter. How long had you been staying in number 12 Grimmauld Place?"

"Three weeks."

"And where had you been hiding before then?"

"Not in London."

"Potter-"

"Evans."

"_Potter,_ answer the question properly!"

"Refer to me as Evans, then." The two men held each other in a fierce staring match, until Snape spoke again.

"When I speak to you, I shall use your _actual _name, not some pseudonym-"

"Harriet Evans is my actual name."

"It is not on any legal document-"

"Yes it is."

"On which one?"

"The one which lists all British wizards and witches."

"How-"

"My magic came late." Snape looked at Harry, before smirking to himself and carrying on in his questioning.

"Fine, _Evans_. Where had you been hiding after you left Diagon Alley and before you arrived at Grimmauld Place?"

"Larkhill, near Stonehenge, sir."

"And, while at Grimmauld Place, how many Order meetings did that mutt of a godfather relay to you?"

"None."

"None? I hardly believe that, Po- _Evans_."

"None at all. I've only accidentally heard the end of one."

"And which one would that be?"

"The one where you hexed Hedwig."

"I did not hex your bird, I merely Silenced her-"

"Same thing in my books."

"If I remember rightly, your bird brutally savaged my own owl and managed to thieve his talon, so I had all rights to silence the thing."

"Revenge is never the answer, sir."

"If you do not stop being so insolent, I won't be looking after bird as well as I have been."

"Well- Wait, what?" Harry looked at Snape confusedly. "You have Hedwig?"

"The Headmaster deemed it appropriate, since my owl is... indisposed. Do not give me that look, Evans-" Harry quickly straightened out the look of horror that had contorted her face. "-I have not used your owl, seeing as I'm still in need of my fingers, and your bird is quite determined to have them for itself."

Harry grinned at Hedwig's antics. Snape gave him a cold glare, before pointing his wand at the door. It flew open with a _bang_.

"Get out of my sight, Evans." Harry complied with the order, rushing out the door, but then she doubled back to the classroom door.

"Professor, you wouldn't happen to know where the Hufflepuff common room is, would you?"

"I am Head of Slytherin House, not Hufflepuff. Hasn't that information gone through your dense skull yet?" Harry opened her mouth to retaliate, but as soon as she blinked, Snape had vanished.

"Harry? _Harry!_" Harry turned her head, and saw Susan racing towards her. "Thank heavens I found you! I thought I lost you in the crowd back in the Great Hall!"

"Don't worry," Harry replied. "I'm alright."

"Thankfully. Come on, or Ernie'll have my head." She led Harry through barrel-top door, past a corridor that Harry knew led to the kitchens, through another barrel-top door into a small antechamber, with a large, still painting of a pair of gold curtains. To Harry, it looked as if someone in the painting had walked out and all that was left was the backdrop, but it didn't seem that way to Susan. She reached up and _into _the painting and pulled the curtains aside.

"In you get, Harry." Harry cautiously raised her leg and stepped over the frame. Her foot sunk through the painting and onto a floor behind it. Harry pulled her body through, and quite suddenly she was facing a cozy little common room.

For being in the basement, it was surprisingly light and airy – a far cry from the dank Slytherin dungeons. The chairs and sofas were yellow with black cushions, all the hangings were Hufflepuff, and although there were no windows on the walls, the roof was a large glass dome, letting in natural sunlight. More barrel-top doors surrounded them – Harry guessed that these must lead to the dormitories.

Ernie was sat on a sofa facing an ornate fire-place. As soon as he spotted Harry, he leapt up from their seats, wearing a relieved expression.

"I thought Susan had really lost you then!" Ernie cried, walking up to her.

"At least I found her again." Susan smiled from beside Harry.

"Yes, that's good. By the way, welcome to the Hufflepuff common room, Harry." His arm gave a sweeping wave of the room, as if he were welcoming visitors to a posh art gallery. "Your dormitory is over there-" He pointed to a door which had an ornate _5G_ squiggled over the top. "-And if you need any help, feel free to ask me or Hannah. We're the Hufflepuff prefects." He puffed out his chest with pride, and Harry saw the yellow and black Prefect badge pinned to the top of his tie.

"Thanks, Ernie." Harry said, smiling. Ernie smiled back, before turning and heading towards another door, this one marked with a decorative _5B_. Harry watched him go, before turning and walking into her new dormitory, Susan following closely behind.

All the girls were changed and in their pyjamas when they arrived. They all called out a greeting to her, which she replied in kind. The dormitory was almost exactly the same as Gryffindors, except in yellow and black.

"You're over there." Megan called out, pointing out a bed in the corner. With a nod of thanks, Harry walked to it, opened her trunk and extracted her pyjamas and washbag from her very untidily packed trunk.

"You can have the bathroom first, Harry." Susan said, half-undressed already. She pointed a bare arm towards a small wooden door in another corner. Clutching her bag and clothes, Harry slipped into the bathroom and tugged the door shut, and she finally had time to think over what had happened with Snape.

Snape had Hedwig. That fact alone sent waves of worry through her veins. It was one thing to be the centre of Snape's attention – it was another thing entirely to know Snape was also holding your owl captive. What would Snape do to Hedwig?

Harry dragged a make-up wipe over her face with a sigh. _She'll be alright,_ she tried telling herself. _She's still alive from what Snape implied._ But it still didn't stop the worry for Hedwig's safety from rolling around her gut. She checked the mirror for any errant smudges of eye-shadow, before turning away and pulling on her pyjamas.

_But, _Harry thought, as she pulled her shirt over her head. _Snape now knows where I was. _To Harry, this was a Very Bad Thing. She didn't know why, but something about Snape knowing made her stomach clench. Why did Snape want to know, anyway? It wasn't as if he could tell anyone...

She put her wash stuff in a small cupboard in the bathroom, and her uniform in the laundry bin, before walking back to the dorm and her new bed. _I wish I could talk to Sirius_, she thought as she curled up under the thick blankets. _He might know what was up with Snape._


	22. Chapter 22

Harry hadn't a chance to speak to speak to Sirius until the next evening. On the morning, Susan had to wake her up the next morning as she was at risk of sleeping through breakfast, and there was no time to chat after dressing – the Hufflepuffs took it upon themselves to wait and escort her everywhere, on the off-chance she might get lost. Harry appreciated the thoughtfulness, but it soon became irritating to have everyone around all the time.

"You'll probably know everywhere by the end of the week," Susan told her as they joined the others at the Hufflepuff table. "It's quite easy when you've done the route a few times."

"Easy for you to say." Stephen grumbled sleepily while pouring orange juice on his cereal. "I'll never be able to find Snape's dungeon on my own."

"You wouldn't have been able to find the common room had we not drawn you a map in first year." Susan replied. "And you do realise that's orange juice you're putting on your cereal?" Stephen set the orange juice jug down with a blush.

"Got your timetables yet?" It was Frankie, who had just come from the other end of the table, clutching two pieces of paper.

"Nah, Sprout's not down this end of the table yet." Wayne answered, tucking into a full English breakfast.

"Too bad. Look at mine!" She thrust it on the table. They all leaned in to read it. "See there? Three free periods Monday morning, and two Friday afternoon!"

"So?"

"So? It means I practically have a three day weekend, whereas I'm pretty sure you won't!"

"That's supposed to be for studying." Hannah replied.

"Well, yeah... But I won't have to study _all _the time. Anyway, see you all later – Trisha asked me to get her timetable for her so she could have a lie-in. Lazy sod." She skipped off, just as Professor Sprout arrived with their timetables.

"Right then... Ernie, Justin, here are yours... Hannah, Megan, Zacharias, Wayne... Stephen, please don't lose yours like last year... And here's yours, Harriet – you just need to choose your optional lessons."

"My what?"

"Optional lessons. Such as Divination or Care of Magical Creatures. Usually you choose the lessons in your third year, but since you're new..."

"I have to choose them now?"

"Yes."

"Ok...umm... what lessons can I do, Professor?"

"Well there's Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Muggle Studies and, as I've said before, Divination and Care Of Magical Creatures. Pick two."

"Erm..." Harry had to think hard on what subject to take. She had no intention of taking Divination again – it was her least favourite subject after potions, mainly because of the teacher, Trelawney, who insisted on predicting her death every lesson. She considered taking Care Of Magical Creatures, but since Hagrid wasn't there, there wouldn't be a point to it – the fact Hagrid taught it was one of the few reasons she took it in the first place.

"Could I take… umm... Muggle Studies and Arithmancy, please?" In her mind, Muggle Studies would be an easy subject – having lived with Muggles for most of her life, Harry felt this would be an easy O.W.L to achieve. She chose Arithmancy since it sounded much easier than Ancient Runes – though she didn't know exactly what Arithmancy entailed.

"There you are. You might only have a year of teaching with the subject, but I'm sure you'll do well." Sprout had tapped the time-table with her wand and handed it to Harry.

"Professor, what will I do about books? I wasn't expecting to take these lessons so I haven't got any equipment-"

"Don't worry, I'll sort out some spare books with your Professors. " She replied, before continuing to a group of second years down the table.

"Arithmancy, hey?" Justin leant forwards towards her. "I wish you luck with that. Even Mr Brainbox here has trouble with it sometimes!" He clapped Ernie on the back. Harry started to wonder what on earth had she got herself into by taking Arithmancy.

"What have you got today then, Harry?" Megan asked, finishing off some jam toast. Harry looked down at her timetable to see.

"Umm... Defence Against the Dark Arts, double Herbology, Arithmancy and double History of Magic."

"Double History of Magic!" Megan checked her own timetable. "Damn, I've got that too! Which sadistic scumbag thought it would be funny to have double History of Magic? On a Monday no less!" Megan rant on History of Magic faded into a language Harry didn't recognize.

"Don't worry, Harry," Wayne said. He had stood up and was swinging his bag over his shoulder. "She does this. She'll calm down soon. Come on, or we'll be late for Defence." They all grabbed their bags and followed Wayne out the door, Megan still ranting.

Megan didn't stop ranting until they reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, but only because Umbridge was already in the classroom when they walked in. She was stood at the front of the class, as toad-like as yesterday. A black bow was perched on her head. It reminded Harry of a large fly, which would suddenly be taken in by a large sticky tongue that would erupt from Umbridge's mouth...

"Well, good morning!" She trilled, as they all settled down. There was a mumbled class-wide reply to her. She frowned and put her hands on her hips.

"Tut, tut, tut! That won't do, class! I would like you to reply in kind when I greet you. Let's try again – good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge." They all chanted back at her. She grinned, sowing two rows of pointed teeth.

"That wasn't hard, was it?" She replied sweetly. "Wands away and quills out, please." There was a sudden rustling of zips and bag fabric as everyone stowed away their wands and pulled out quills and paper. Harry spotted a few disgruntled faces – quill lessons were never any fun.

Harry spent so long trying to pull her quill and parchment out of the bottom of her bag that she completely missed what Umbridge had said. When she resurfaced, she noticed some words on the board. They read "_Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles." _Below was a list of course aims. Noticing everyone was writing them down, Harry copied them, quickly scrawling the words down.

"Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?" Umbridge asked once everyone had written down the aims. There were some nods and some murmurs of 'Yes', which caused Umbridge to frown.

"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge sternly. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

A call of "Yes, Professor Umbridge," echoed around the room.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge, apparently satisfied. "Turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners', if you please. There will be no need to talk."

Harry turned to page 5, and started to read. The book was as dull as Professor Binns, so after around five minutes of reading the same page, she gave up reading and looked around. Many of the class had given in before her – Susan had taken to making origami birds with her parchment. Megan and Wayne were passing notes while pretending to read. Only Stephen, Ernie and Hannah were reading the book calmly, though Ernie had been reading the same page since he opened the book.

Justin, however, had his hand up and was gazing at Professor Umbridge, trying to will her to turn and see him. It worked to some extent – Umbridge did turn around, but she gave him a look which clearly said she wasn't answering any questions. Justin lowered his hand. Ernie snapped away from his book and looked at him. Justin leaned over, and started to speak to him in a low tone.

"What part of 'There will be no need to talk' do you not understand?" Umbridge rounded on them. Both boys flushed at being caught.

"Sorry, Professor. I was only confused-"

"Queries will be answered at the end of the class, Mr...?"

"Finch-Fletchley. But it's rather important, Professor." Umbridge breathed through her nose like a frustrated bull.

"What is your query, Mr Finch-Fletchley?"

"I'm rather confused about the aims we wrote down earlier."

"We're _reading_ now, not _writing_-"

"But, Professor-" He seemed to almost lose his will, but with an encouraging glance from Ernie, he ploughed on. "There's nothing about using spells in the aims."

Umbridge gave a tinkling laugh. It sounded like breaking glass. "Why, Mr Finch-Fletchley, I doubt there will be a situation where you will be required to _use _defensive spells-"

"We're never going to _perform_ magic?" Megan cried, outraged.

"If you wish to ask a question put your hand in the air, Miss..?"

"Jones." She stuck her hand in the air. Umbridge smiled and turned away. But now, Ernie had his hand raised.

"Yes, Mr..."

"Macmillan. If we don't use magic, Professor, how are we going to do well in our O.W.L.s? There's a practical exam too."

"The Ministry believes that theory behind a spell will be sufficient-"

"So the first time we'll perform the spell will be in the exam?" Harry nearly yelled.

"Hand, Miss...?"

"Evans." She stuck her hand in the air. Umbridge turned away, but now everyone's hands were in the air, and they were all speaking. Megan was ranting in a different language again. Hannah was panicking, while Susan was trying to console her. All the boys were yelling, but all saying different things, so their voices were totally incomprehensible.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Umbridge screamed over their voices. The class fell silent. Umbridge took a deep breath, before employing a sickly sweet smile.

"Now class, if the Ministry deems it correct, it is correct. Do not make a fuss out of nothing. Now return to your books. _There will be no need to talk_."

The rest of the lesson passed in silence.


	23. Chapter 23

"Well, that was... strange."

They were all sat in the greenhouse, waiting for break to be over. Sprout had let them in early due to the fact it was drizzly and cold outside, and she trusted her Hufflepuffs not to do anything stupid as she pottered about, preparing for class.

"Strange? It was bloody useless!" Megan replied, fiddling with a pair of fluffy pink earmuffs. "I mean, how _are_ we supposed to defend ourselves without magic?"

"And how am I supposed to pass my O.W.L?" Hannah cried. "I'm useless enough as it is-"

"Hannah, you're not useless at Defence!" Ernie interjected.

"Well, even if I were any good," Hannah continued. "How am I supposed to pass my practical exam? I can't cast things first try!"

"Neither can I!" Stephen moaned. "I'll probably Vanish the examiners clothes or something-!" Everyone burst out laughing.

"Oh gosh," Wayne choked. "You've _got _to do that now!"

"No way! I'll have enough trouble passing the stupid exam!"

"And I doubt you'd want to see under some of the _older_ examiners clothes!" Susan giggled. There were exclamations of disgust, and yells of "_Susan!_ That's disgusting!". Once the giggling died down, Justin returned to their conversation about Umbridge.

"Why do you think he appointed her?"

"Who?" Ernie asked.

"Dumbledore. Why do you think Dumbledore appointed Umbridge?"

"Perhaps there was no-one else?"

"No-one else." Zach scoffed. "We all know Snape has been applying every year for the job."

"To be quite honest, I'd prefer Snape teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts than Umbridge." Megan grumbled. "At least he'd let us use magic."

"True... So if Dumbledore _could _find a new Defence teacher, then why is Umbridge here?"

"Perhaps it's something to do with the Ministry." Susan piped up.

"The Ministry?" Justin replied, confused.

"Well, yeah. I've heard Auntie mention someone named Umbridge a few times when talking about work – Auntie works at the Ministry." The last part was for Harry's benefit.

"Why would the Ministry need someone here?" Hannah asked.

"Well, he's crazy, isn't he?" Zach commented loftily. "Said so in the Prophet-"

"Bloody hell Zach, you don't _really _believe what's printed in the Prophet these days?" Megan replied hotly.

"Well, it's more believable than Potter's story." Zach argued back just as heatedly. Megan started swearing at him in another language when he said this, and only shut up when Stephen clapped a hand over her mouth. "Voldemort returning, Pettigrew alive... I mean, Pettigrew's been dead for fifteen years!"

"Oh, and I suppose Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?" Harry snapped, fury suddenly rearing up like a great snake in the pit of her stomach. There was a very pregnant pause after the statement, and Harry belatedly realised he'd just talked about Cedric in front of some of his friends.

The silence was dissipated when Stephen let out a girlish "Urgh!" – Megan had licked the hand over her mouth.

* * *

The day went on pleasantly after the altercation in the greenhouse. No-one dared bring up Umbridge again, and when the conversation steered in that direction, someone would suddenly change the subject. Herbology was interesting enough, and they couldn't talk in fear being bitten by a Fanged Geranium while distracted.

They were separated for their third lesson, where some went to Divination and Ernie and Harry climbed to the second floor to get to Arithmancy. Arithmancy wasn't as bad as she thought it would be – once you got your head around the theories, it was relatively simple. The most distracting thing was Hermione, who was sat on Ernie's other side. To have normality so close... Harry kept having to pull herself away from staring at her.

Lunch was quiet and tense. Zach kept indicating he wanted to talk about Umbridge, but everyone else refused to speak of it. Whenever he started to talk about it, someone would interrupt him and speak of something mundane, such as the weather. After several failed attempts, Zach just moodily picked at his plate, brooding.

The double History Of Magic lesson was spent sleeping, playing games or, in Hannah and Ernie's case, actually listening to Professor Binns drone on about wizarding wars. Stephen and Justin were sleeping on their desks, and she, Susan, Megan and Zach were playing Hangman, though Zach was quickly kicked out of the game when he tried to discuss Umbridge through the game.

Dinner was relatively more interesting, however. Frankie had joined them at the table, looking haggard and stressed.

"Bad day?" Susan said sympathetically, handing her a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Frankie just nodded, accepting the hot chocolate with a thanking look.

"Did you have Umbridge too?" Zach asked, on yet another 'Lets-Discuss-Umbridge' quest. Susan looked ready to change the subject, but Frankie answered before she could.

"I didn't take Defence, you silly goose." She answered churlishly. "Arithmancy, Astronomy and Potions, I took. Though she does play a role in it."

"Why, what happened?"

"I was taking Trisha to the Hospital Wing – I'll explain that in a minute – and on the way back I walked passed her classroom. She was teaching the N.E.W.T. class. You know the Head Girl?" Everyone nodded, but Harry shook her head, having not met the Head Girl yet.

"She's the really tall one." Susan supplied. "The girl sat next to that other girl we sat next to on the train – Gigi, wasn't it?" Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw who they were talking about – the sunken-eyed, austere-looking girl who was sat next to Gigi yesterday at the Welcoming Feast. She was extremely tall.

"Well, she's in Umbridge's class and- Oh! You should've heard the way Umbridge spoke to her!" Frankie stabbed a roast potato in anger.

"How did she speak to her?"

"Well, she was speaking like this." Frankie replied, slowing her voice and sounding as if she was talking to someone incredibly dumb.

"Seriously?" Hannah looked horrified. "But that's really cruel!"

"I know. I had half a mind to step in there and give her a piece of my mind."

"But do you know why?"

"Not a clue. Perhaps it's because she's, well, different." Susan spoke quietly.

"You mean like, half and half?" Megan whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the girl in question.

"Half and half?" Harry asked.

"Half witch, half something else." Megan explained.

"Yeah, I think she might be." Susan returned to Megan's original question. "From what I've heard about Umbridge from Auntie, she's been pushing to get laws in against half-and-halfs."

"Succeeding?"

"Somewhat. People are afraid of one side of the person, so they'll accept anything which they think would make them safe."

"Hmm... If she were half-giant or something-"

"Not half-giant," Frankie muttered, shaking her head. "Not wide enough. Maybe half-banshee, they're meant to be pretty tall-"

"She doesn't look half-banshee to me-"

"Maybe she's just seriously tall." Zach broke into the conversation. "Anyway, we were discussing Umbridge earlier-"

"Yeah, and we don't need to talk about that now." Susan interrupted quickly. "Tell us what happened to Trisha."

"Who's Trisha?" Harry asked, never having heard of a Trisha in Hogwarts before.

"Patricia Stimpson." Frankie replied. "Biggest worry-wart in the world, she is. Anyway, to put it simply, Snape went tyrannical on her."

"Isn't Snape usually _nicer_ to the N.E.W.T. students?" Susan asked.

"Yeah, he is. But, for some reason – I don't know why – he was a real tyrant in class today. Way different to what he was like before the summer."

"What happened?"

"Snape was being bang out of order to us, but we got on like we usually do. But you know Trisha – any sign of something different, and she'll panic. Anyway, she missed something out in her potion, and it went wrong, and Snape rounded on her." Frankie shuddered. "It was _frightening_."

"Gosh... What was he like?"

"He was speaking in that really threatening whisper he used when we were younger, except there was a hint of something different. Like as if he were_ growling_. Trisha couldn't stand it, and was in hysterics before he even finished his first sentance."

"Is she alright?"

"She's better now. Pomfrey wants to keep her in until after dinner, though. She's not the only one affected by Snape though – there were a few first years and some seconds too. That Gryffindor boy – Neville, that his name isn't it? – was up there too."

"Damn, he must be bad." Megan sympathized, reaching for a mug of her own hot chocolate.

"He is. When do you guys next have him?"

"Umm..." Justin, who had been listening with half an ear, rummaged in his bag. He pulled out his timetable and checked it. "Wednesday morning."

"Hell, Snape in the morning." Frankie groaned. "I wish you luck."

The rest of the meal was passed with general chit-chat, but Harry couldn't help but think of Frankie's description of Snape's actions as she and the others walked back down to the Hufflepuff common room.

Was it her fault that Snape was in such a foul temper? I must be frustrating for the man to know where she was, but not being able to turn her in. And, in turn, Snape was probably stressed about having to lie to Dumbledore about her whereabouts because he knew Dumbledore would never believe the true story...

Was it her fault students were being hurt?

_I need to talk to Sirius_, she thought to herself.


	24. Chapter 24

Harry had her chance to talk to Sirius later in the evening, since everyone had decided to stay in the common room and make a dent in the mountain of homework they'd been given. Although it was the first day back, all their professors had insisted on giving them homework – a two-foot essay from both Sprout and Binns, a research assignment from Vector and a reading assignment from Umbridge was what was awaiting Harry.

Harry left the group debating on whether to bother with Umbridge's homework and darted into the dormitory. No-one called her back, so she grabbed the mirror from her trunk and darted inside the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Crouching down to sit on the bathmat, she turned the mirror to face her, and spoke Sirius' name. The mirror misted up, before clearing and revealing Sirius' smiling face.

"Harry! How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. How are you?" Harry grinned back – she had missed her godfather.

"Bored. But don't worry about me, I'll be fine. How was your first day of lessons?"

"Horrible." Harry proceeded to tell Sirius about Umbridge and how she refused to let them teach magic. At the end of her mini-tirade, Sirius was frowning.

"What was her name again?"

"Umbridge. Susan said she does stuff at the Ministry – her Auntie mentions her a lot." Sirius' face cleared.

"I thought so. Umbridge is the scumbag who's been pushing all the anti-werewolf legislation. The ones which mean Remus can't get a job. Don't get on her bad side, Harry – she's a nasty piece of work."

"But she's not letting us use magic!"

"I know, that's why she's there. The Ministry – Fudge in particular – don't want you trained in combat, so they sent someone to make sure you weren't."

"Trained in combat? What does Fudge think we'll do, raise a private army?" Harry laughed, but the look on Sirius' face told him the answer as plain as day.

"No. Way. Is Fudge really that stupid?"

"Yes, unfortunately. Fudge thinks Dumbledore is after his job."

"After his-? Dumbledore may be a manipulative toe-rag sometimes, but even I know he wouldn't want the job." Sirius grinned, and Harry frowned. "What?"

"Lily always used to call James a toe-rag."

"Wait... Sirius what are you implying there?"

"Nothi-" Sirius' eyes grew wide as he realised the implications of his statement. "Hell, I didn't mean it that way! That's _disgusting_! Urgh!" Harry was giggling madly, and soon Sirius was too, and they both gave way a fit of laughter.

"Blimey, that's the best laugh I've had in days." Sirius chuckled, wiping his eyes. "Wish you and I could speak more often."

"Yeah... Perhaps I could come down for Christmas?"

"The Weasleys are coming down." Sirius said gloomily. "You'd have to stay in the library all the time again, so I wouldn't be able to speak to you much."

"Mmm..." Harry's smile slipped from her face. The mention of the library reminded her of her anger fit, and Snape finding out. Snape. Someone Harry wanted to discuss with Sirius.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"You know Snape?" Sirius' face hardened.

"Yeah. What about him?

"Well... umm... It doesn't matter."

"Harry-"

"No, honestly, it doesn't matter." Harry didn't know why she was changing her mind about telling Sirius about Snape – she only knew that she didn't want him to throw it off as a casual "He's always like that". Sirius looked at her as if he was going to force her to tell him, but decided against it.

"Just remember..." Sirius started, obviously trying to find the right words. "... You can tell me anything, alright?"

"Yeah." Harry replied, the words flitting uncomfortably around her head. "I'd better go – I think Megan's coming in." She quickly lied.

"Oh, ok." Harry heard the trace of hurt in Sirius' voice, and felt all the more worse for it. "Bye." She turned the mirror over, and exited the bathroom, guilt roiling in her abdomen.

When she walked through the dormitory, she saw that Megan was already in bed, snoring loudly. Louder than what was considered normal. Harry ignored her and carried on downstairs, to get started on the mountain of homework.

As a result, she didn't notice Megan was still wearing her shoes.

* * *

_Pain. So much pain. It hurts so much. Stop. Please, stop! It burns... so badly..._

_Harry could hear the laughter, the manic screeching of others around her. She wanted to help them, get them out, but she was stuck. Couldn't move. Couldn't see. _

_Burning..._

_The pain was too much. It was engulfing her body, burning from top to toe. It engulfed her mind, screams and yells of everyone around torturing her much worse than the burning. So much pain, but she couldn't escape, couldn't scream, couldn't help..._

"_Nagini, kill."_

_Sharp jabs in the neck. Drowning. Drowning on blood and sweat and tears and venom, and it burns so much, so much pain, I'm sorry, so sorry... please stop..._

Harry jerked upright violently, scar throbbing. She felt nauseous and the room was spinning in front of her eyes. Her hand was clapped to her forehead, and her body spasmed occasionally from the aching...

It was one of those nightmares. The worst kind. The one where you could hear, but not see, only hear and feel what is happening. And what was happening was excruciating torture. Harry had no idea whether these were real of not, but all she knew was that they were bad news for the day ahead.

"_Tempus_." Harry reached for her wand and cast the spell, shirking back when the bright numbers made her nausea ten times worse. When she finally focused on the numbers, she noted that it was a little before six in the morning.

Harry knew that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so she got out of bed and started to get changed, pausing often when the dizziness and nausea got too much. Lifting her bag, she walked out the door. Perhaps a stroll on the grounds would do her well.

The September breeze kicked her in the face as soon as she stepped outside, its cool sharpness soothing the residual burning of her body and scar. She wandered down past Hagrid's hut, which was still empty, and down to the lake edge. Sitting on one of the benches, Harry watched as the Giant Squid lazily propelled itself towards her, probably hoping she had toast.

"I wonder if the Squid prefers jam or marmalade on its toast." Harry turned to see who had spoken. Gigi had suddenly materialised beside her, blonde hair tied back in a neat plait, looking tired.

"Marmalade, probably." Harry replied, turning back to the lake. The Giant Squid had swum away, seeing as neither of them had toast with them. They were quiet for a while, watching the lake ripple and the trees of the Forbidden Forest sway in the wind. Gigi broke the silence.

"Do you want to play something?" she asked.

"It's too early to be running around, Gigi." Harry said, rubbing her scar absentmindedly. It was still burning slightly from the nightmare.

"How about we make daisy chains?" Without waiting for Harry to reply, she sat down on the grass and started picking daisies. Harry watched her until, with a grunt from the stiffness and achiness of her body, she joined Gigi on the floor and picked some flowers with her.

It was around ten minutes later when another figure came out of the castle and walked towards them. Harry didn't see her until Gigi gave a cry of "Ama!" and waved her over. It was the Head Girl Susan pointed out yesterday, and she was much taller close up.

"Morning Gigi. I was wondering where you were. Who's your friend here?"

"This is Harry. Harry, this is Ama."

"Nice to meet you." Harry said, extending a hand. Ama had to kneel down to shake it with one of her paw-like hands.

"And you." Ama let go of Harry's hand and turned to Gigi. "Gigi, breakfast has just been served, if you want it."

"Can I finish my daisy chains first?"

"Sure." Ama settled down beside her and watched her finish the last of her three daisy chains. She looped one over Ama's head, who accepted it without question, one on her own head, and one on Harry's. Harry grinned and went to take it off, but Gigi stopped her.

"Keep it on for breakfast!" she demanded. Looking at how determined Gigi was to make her keep it on, she left it on her head. The three of them trooped up to the castle and into the near empty Great Hall. No-one bar a few teachers and older students were awake, but Megan was, and she quickly waved her over. Departing from Gigi and Ama, Harry dropped neatly into the seat beside Megan.

"Hiya Harry. What's with the flowers?" Harry looked over to Gigi and Ama, who were currently flicking bits of orange peel at each other. She smiled slightly, forgetting about her pain for a moment, before turning back to Megan.

"Just a present from a good friend."


	25. Chapter 25

Tuesday went by far too fast for Harry's liking. It had whirled past in a blaze of colour and sound, leaving behind another mountainous heap of homework and a very tired Harry. She spent the majority of Tuesday evening curled up by the fire with everyone else, finishing essays or practicing spells. Frankie helped them out sometimes, as did Patricia Stimpson once she escaped the clutches of Madam Pomfrey.

But soon enough, Wednesday morning dawned bright and cold, and the troop of yellow-clad students shuffled miserably towards the dungeons. The word of Snape's tyranny had spread like wild-fire around the school, and as a result many more stories about Snape. Some were believable, but by the end of Tuesday the gossip had been exaggerated to extraordinary proportions – the strangest one Harry had heard was a claim that Snape had attempted to drown Dennis Creevey in his cauldron, before stripping him naked and throwing him to the Giant Squid. And having spoken to both Ama and Gigi in the library after dinner, it seemed Snape's moods weren't just reserved exclusively for the other houses.

Although they knew most of the stories circulating were untrue, it still gave the troop a feeling of dread which only strengthened as they got closer to Snape's classroom. By the time they'd arrived, everyone was pale and silent. Hannah looked as if she was in two minds whether to stay or run back to bed. Harry's scar had started prickling again.

The door of the classroom swept open with a large _BANG!_ Snape stood in the doorway, glaring coldly at each and every one of them, as they peered fearfully back at him.

"In." They all scurried in like frightened mice. The door shut with another _bang. _Snape stormed to the front of the class, robes billowing. They all found a seat and sat down. It seemed to Harry it was just a normal lesson- well, a normal Gryffindor lesson, anyhow. But the thought flew out of her head as the lesson progressed.

Snape didn't speak much during the lesson, but that's what made him much more frightening. When he spoke, it was quiet and almost a growl. It seemed to freeze the very air around them. It reminded Harry of a Dementor, sucking the happiness from the room as if it were life serum...

A thump sounded to her right – Hannah had fainted within ten minutes of the lesson starting. Susan beside her wasn't fairing well either, trembling like an autumn leaf. Snape strode to them until he towered over them like an overbearing vulture.

"Hospital Wing with her, Bones." He growled icily. The room seemed to become several degrees colder. Susan was shaking so violently that she almost knocked over her desk in her hurry to carry Hannah out of the room. Snape turned and glared at them all, as if daring them to speak.

Harry turned back to her own desk, and started to cut up some daisy roots. Snape was having an effect on her too – her hands were trembling, which made her cut herself more than once. She scooped them up and threw them in the cauldron, a cauldron that was already hissing menacingly-

_Crack_. Her potion turned an ice-cold white, before pulsating in its cauldron. Harry could see cracks running down the side of the pot, growing larger and larger by the minute. Harry could see the potion in between the cracks, but it was too thick to seep through, for now anyway-

_Bang. _The potion broke free of it remaining barriers and spread quickly. There were screams all around, and Harry heard Snape's command to leave, and the bang of the door as everyone streamed out. But she was stuck – the potion had surrounded her on all sides. She tried Vanishing it, but it seemed to be resistant to magic. It came closer and closer, and Harry didn't know what it would do but she definitely didn't want it to touch her-

"_Mobilicorpus!_" Harry suddenly found herself floating above the white lake of potion, which had taken over the space Harry had occupied only seconds ago. Snape was stood on his own desk, wand pointed in Harry's direction. He carefully floated Harry towards the door. A sudden jerk and Harry found herself being dropped a few inches – she turned, and saw that Snape's desk had began to melt into the soup of whiteness.

_I'm not leaving him there!_ Harry thought to herself. She may not like the man very much, but there was no way she was leaving him to melt in some vile concoction. Once Snape had set her down, Harry turned around and pulled out her wand. She yelled the first spell that came into her mind-

"_Accio!_" Snape, as if jerked by invisible strings, hurtled towards her. He crashed into her at full speed, making them both fall to the floor. Harry's head flicked back at the force, and connected painfully with the floor with a sickening _crunch_. Snape flew from her grasp and into the wall behind. He crumpled against it and didn't move.

Harry reached to make sure he wasn't badly injured, but her eyesight faded, and she was spun into obliviating darkness.

* * *

_A dark, dank library came into view. Death Eaters surrounded her on every side, in a large circle. It was tense, as if they were expecting something. Or someone._

_The __clackclackclack__ of heels sounded behind the circle, which caught her attention, and she turned. Lucius Malfoy had stumbled into view, grazed with a large bruise forming over his left eye._

_"My Lord..." Lucius knelt to the ground, trembling slightly. _

_"What news, Lucius?" Her voice was barely more than a hiss. The kneeling man seemed to tremble even more._

_"My Lord... he... he hasn't arrived." Lucius seemed to stumble over his words. Once he finished, he shrunk even more into himself. Harry felt a hot surge of anger overcome her, and she violently kicked Lucius, who toppled to his side._

_"Hasn't arrived?" Lucius whimpered affirmative. "__Crucio__!" The man screamed, twitching violently on the floor, eyes rolling and gagging on his own spit. She terminated the curse, and watched as Lucius struggled to regain his breath._

_"It has been twelve hours, Lucius. His lessons have ended. Dumbledore cannot hold him in the castle. Where is he?"_

_"He's run, like the traitorous coward he is!" someone yelled from the circle, and the rest laughed and jeered in agreement. Voldemort silenced them with a flick of his wand._

_"We shall see. If he does make an appearance... well, he may not be alive to regret it."_

Voldemort's cackling laughter was the last thing Harry heard, before her head whirled and she awoke to see the Hospital Wing ceiling. Harry's scar was more painful than it was yesterday, and she had to shut her eyes and take deep breaths to make sure she wasn't violently sick everywhere.

One she felt slightly better, she slowly opened her eyes. The Hospital wing was dark – it was obviously evening. She must've been out for ages. She looked around slowly, trying not to worsen the nausea. The entire ward was empty, bar one bed beside her. Snape occupied this one, but not for long. Harry saw him get up and go to walk out, hand over his left forearm.

"Don't!" Harry cried, jerking upright. She regretted it immediately – not only did she feel ill, her scar throbbed as did the back of her head. Snape looked towards her, brow furrowed.

"Potter-"

"Evans. Don't go to him, Professor."

"What? How did you-?"

"He's been calling you for twelve hours. He's going to kill you if you return!"

"Po-Evans-" Snape walked towards her, and lowered his voice. "I am a spy, I must return."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"You'd die."

"I often face the prospect of death from the Dark Lord-"

"He said specifically that you wouldn't be alive to regret going back!"

"And how would you know this?"

"I-" Harry hesitated about revealing more about herself, but if it were to stop someone from dying... "I saw him say it."

"Saw? Evans, you are neither a Seer, nor will you ever be one."

"No! I can see what he's doing sometimes – I saw it just now, when I was unconscious-"

"You dreamed it."

"No, Professor-!" Snape started heading back towards the door. Harry got out of bed to try and stop him, but fell to her knees – the blinding pain in her head and the nausea in her stomach prevented her from standing upright. Nevertheless, Harry attempted to crawl in front of Snape, who watched her with a raised eyebrow.

"Touching as you concern is," He spoke quietly, flicking his wand and forcing Harry to get back into bed again. "I will go to him tonight, no matter what you do."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Harry with a leaden weight of guilt in her gut.


	26. Chapter 26

Harry waited until Snape had walked out the door before sliding out of bed again. Clutching her head and pocketing her wand, she crawled to the doors and peered around them. But Snape had vanished, and Harry hadn't a clue where he was. She settled against the doorframe to think.

She'd just watched her most loathed professor walk towards his death. Well, most loathed for now – Umbridge was catching up on the loathing scale. But she didn't feel absolutely nothing for his death. When the Dursleys died, Harry felt absolutely nothing. They had made her life hell, after all.

But Snape... Snape had also made her life hell. He hated her as soon as she had set foot in Hogwarts. But he'd also saved her life too many times to count; from Quirrel, from Sirius when he was still thought to be a murderer... Perhaps that explained this need to stop him from going to Voldemort. She owed him for all the times he saved her.

But what was she to do?

_Only one thing for it_, Harry thought to herself. She'd have to come clean. Stop running away and tell Dumbledore who she was. Snape's life hung in the balance, and if she didn't tell Dumbledore... well, she didn't really want to think of that.

She pulled herself to her feet, but after a few seconds of sickening tottering, she dropped to the floor and opted to crawl to the office. Dumbledore's office and the hospital wing were on the same floor, so luckily she didn't have to crawl far. But she was on edge; this was one of the few times she'd snuck out without her Invisibility Cloak. Each sound seemed to be five times louder than usual, and she kept on thinking she could see a corner of a cloak whipping round a corner behind her.

At last she reached the Entrance Hall, she spotted the stone gargoyle up ahead. _This is it,_ she thought. This was the time. All the planning, the preparation, what both she and Sirius and perhaps even Snape had given up to get to this point was about to be thrown out the window. She evaded Dumbledore for two months. It was time to turn herself in.

A sudden sound from the stairs leading to the Common Room sent Harry diving for cover into a partially hidden alcove. She peered out, but seeing no-one there, shie looked towards her goal. The stone gargoyle's marble eyes seemed to stare right into her head. Harry belatedly realised she hadn't a clue what the password was. Slightly worriedly, well aware that the more time she thought the closer to death Snape would be, she listed all the sweets she knew in her head – Chocolate Frogs, sherbet lemon, Fizzing Whizbees, raspberry elf tarts-

Wait.

Raspberry elf tarts?

_Elf..._

Heart in her throat, she called out the name of the other option she had to save Snape.

"Dobby?"

With a loud _crack_, Dobby the house elf Apparated in front of her. He looked rather confused, turning this way and that, trying to spot who had called him. He spotted her soon after. Eyes wide and slightly frightened, Dobby dropped nervously into a low bow.

"Dobby is sorry, Miss, Dobby thought his master had called." He whispered quietly. Harry looked at Dobby confusedly, until she realised Dobby didn't recognise her as Harry Potter.

"Dobby, I am Harry Potter." She hissed at him.

"Dobby is not stupid, Miss. Harry Potter is a boy-"

"I'm in disguise!" Dobby looked affronted, sticking his nose in the air and folding his arms.

"Do not insult Harry Potter by trying to be him, Miss!" Dobby looked as if he was about to Disapparate away, but suddenly, Harry had a stroke of inspiration.

"No, Dobby! Look-" She fumbled in her clothes for her wand. She withdrew it, and waved it in the air while concentrating hard. "_Expecto Patronum!"_

At once, the silver stag burst from the tip. It cantered down the corridor, leapt into the air, and vanished. Harry heard a gasp, followed by muffled speech, but when she turned to Dobby, his mouth was jammed into the biggest grin she'd ever seen.

"Harry Potter!" he squealed. Harry shushed him to be quieter. He nodded in understanding, great big ears flapping madly. When he spoke next, it was more along the lines of a stage whisper than an actual whisper.

"Dobby was worried for Harry Potter, since Harry Potter was missing for many a day! But now Harry Potter is sat here, but something has happened to Harry Potter..." He indicated at the make-up and the hair.

"Yeah, something did happen to me Dobby – I'll explain it another time. Right now, I need you to do something important for me."

"Anything, Harry Potter."

"I need you to follow Professor Snape without being caught. He's gone to a meeting with Voldemort-" Dobby squeaked at the name. "-and I'm pretty sure he won't survive it. Could you do that?"

"Yes, Dobby can!"

"Even if he's already left Hogwarts?"

"Dobby can see if he can follow Professor Snape's path!"

"Good. Oh, and don't tell anyone I sent you, okay?"

"Of course, Har-" Dobby suddenly paused, listening intently. Harry listened too, but could only hear silence. Dobby, however, obviously could hear something more.

"Someone is listening to us speak!" Dobby squeaked. Harry's blood ran ice cold at the revelation.

"Dobby, go! Remember what I said!" Harry hissed hastily. With a deep bow, Dobby Apparated away with another _crack._ Soon afterwards, Harry heard footsteps from the stairs. She peered out of the alcove again, and came face to face with Frankie and Megan. Frankie looked quite surprised to see her, but Megan looked pensieve.

"Harry!" Frankie whispered. "What are you doing out of the Hospital Wing?"

"Fancied a walk," Harry quickly lied. "What are you doing here?"

"We wanted to see you. Old Pompey-" She jerked her thumb in the direction of the Hospital Wing, and Harry supposed she meant Madam Pomfrey. "-wouldn't let us in to see you earlier, so we decided to see you when she'd gone to bed. Didn't we, Megan?"

"Hmm?" Megan seemed to come out of a reverie. "Oh, yes. Who were you speaking to earlier, Harry?"

"Erm..."

"Her house-elf, you dolt." Frankie interrupted. "Wasn't it obvious from the squeaky voice?" Megan turned pink.

"Well, I-" Her voice trailed away as she saw Frankie wasn't listening, and had turned back to speak to Harry.

"I swear, it was mad getting here. First, Megan kept thinking she heard things, then she made us camp out behind a grotty old statue because she thought she heard something. Then she saw something, but refused to tell me what..." Frankie shook her head tiredly. "Anyway, shall we go to the Common Room, or take you back to the Hospital Wing? You look awfully pale. Harry."

Although the pain and nausea had gone down, Harry still didn't feel one hundred percent. Panic was streaming around her brain about what Megan had seen. Had Megan seen her Patronus? It was a well-known fact what form her Patronus took – had Megan guessed who she was?

"Right!" Frankie interrupted her panic-addled thoughts. "We're taking you to the Hospital Wing. You look absolutely dreadf-" She stopped. They all listened intently, but there was no mistaking the rhythmic _clack clack clack_ of heels hitting the stone floor.

"Someone's coming!" Megan whispered. "Hide!" They all squashed themselves into the alcove, hoping that the shadows would be enough to hide them from whomever it was that was coming. The steps came closer. Their breaths were uncomfortably loud in the alcove. They could see the shadow of whoever it was in the Hall. Harry could feel both Frankie and Megan's heartbeats beating hard against their chests. The steps paused, before stepping purposefully in their direction. A shadow loomed above them, and for the first time they saw the face of their captor.

It was Ama. Her Head Girl badge gleamed on her robes as she towered above them. Her eyebrows were knitted together under her mane of bushy hair, and her entire stance screamed 'Tell-me-what-you're-doing-before-I-kill-you".

"We were taking Harry to the Hospital Wing," Frankie said bravely, straightening up and pulling everyone up with her. Harry's knees shook madly with the effort of standing up. Ama raised an eyebrow.

"Says who?" she whispered softly.

"Says me." Frankie replied, squaring up and staring into Ama's eyes. Although Frankie was a good one and a half heads shorter than Ama, she looked strangely fierce as she stood in front of Ama. Ama stared right back at her, standing so close Frankie had to crane her neck to continue the fierce staring match.

A small meow took their attention, and they all snapped their heads to look at the source. Mrs Norris was stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall, meowing loudly. They all knew what that meant – Filch was on their trail.

Frankie looped her arm around Harry, supporting her like a crutch. She looked back at Ama, with a face of pure determination to get out of here without being caught. Ama stared for a minute, before speaking again.

"Stay close to me. Filch can't get you if you're with me." With that, she struck off towards the Hospital Wing. With Megan acting like another crutch, the trio followed her. They met Filch just outside the Hospital Wing doors, but with a few choice words and stares from Ama, he let them past with much grumbling and moaning.

Soon enough, they were back by Harry's bed. She collapsed onto it gratefully, its softness a great deal more comfortable than the stone floor. Frankie and Megan sat down in the chairs beside the bed, but Ama left as soon as they were settled, walking out of the Hospital Wing without a glance back. Frankie opened her mouth to ask something of her, but Harry, tired from her excursion, fell almost immediately, her mind thankfully empty of visions and nightmares.


	27. Chapter 27

It was around two o' clock in the morning when Dobby returned with Snape. Harry been woken up to frantic shaking and two large tennis ball eyes looming above him. She jumped, as she always did when Dobby woke her up like that, and almost woke Megan, who was curled up by her feet, and Frankie, whose head was hogging half the pillow. Luckily for Harry, they both fell almost straight back to sleep again.

"Dobby is sorry for waking Harry Potter," Dobby began in a stage whisper. "But Dobby wanted Harry Potter to know Dobby has brought back Professor Snape."

"Where is he?" Harry asked. Dobby pointed to the bed next to hers.

Snape was an absolute mess. His oily hair was matted with blood and stuck up in all directions. The clothes he wore were ripped in several places, and through the gaps Harry could see yet more bruises and cuts. His leg stuck out at an odd angle, and there was a small puddle of blood pooling beneath it. Part of his chest looked as if it had collapsed in on itself. His breathing was shaky and rattling, and every once in a while a full body tremor would run through his body.

"Bloody hell..." Harry whispered, eyes wide with shock. "Have you called Madame Pomfrey?"

"Dobby has â Madame Pomfrey has run to get potions for Professor Snape's injuries."

"Ok. Thank you, Dobby." Dobby gave a deep bow and vanished with a loud _crack_. Harry lay back down, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Snape in the bed next door. It unnerved her as to how _frail _the Potions Master looked. Harry was used to the tall, confident professor who often scared first years. This dead-looking, broken wizard lying in a hospital bed was a far cry from the usual self. Even knowing Snape had walked to his near-death didn't prepare her for the sight of him like this. Harry didn't particularly like the man, but neither did she like seeing him like this.

Suddenly, the doors of Madame Pomfrey's office swung open, and the medi-witch herself bustled out. Harry immediately pretended to be asleep. She heard the sounds of privacy curtains being pulled across, and the muffled clinking of glasses as she set about her work. That was all that was heard for an exceptionally long time. Harry was nearly asleep when the Hospital Wing's entrance doors crashed open.

Fast, muffled footsteps approached her bed and passed by it. Harry opened her eyes just a crack, and saw Dumbledore and McGonagall slip between the privacy curtains. McGonagall's looked harried, hair flying out of a messy bun and lips so thin they seemed invisible. Dumbledore eyebrows were knotted together, and his eyes were as hard as steel. He looked as if he'd lived a hundred years since Harry saw him last.

The conversation behind the screen was low and muffled, so Harry couldn't hear a thing but the odd recognisable word. Somewhere along the line of trying to make out words, she fell asleep again. But she was soon awakened from dreams of broken bodies by a loud, shrill yell.

"_What?_ Would you _like _him to be killed!"

It was McGonagall, and from the sound of it she wasn't happy. What seemed like Dumbledore's voice murmured behind the screen, trying to quiet her, and it worked to an extent, but Harry could now hear her half of the conversation, and wasn't planning on not listening anytime soon.

"You know how they can be-! Not that I can think of- Can't you-? They'll never agree, Albus! And even if they did, they'd kill each other within the first week! No, Albus, I can't- I won't believe there isn't another way!"

Through the crack between her eyelids, Harry watched as McGonagall burst out of the curtains, two spots of colour high on her cheeks. Dumbledore followed close behind, calling her back. McGonagall turned back, as if to argue and yell at him, but at the last moment her eyes took notice of Harry, Megan and Frankie's still frames. Harry could almost feel her shock at remembering they were there. Instead of yelling at Dumbledore as she planned, she stalked up to him like a furious cat and hissed at him through her teeth.

"I do not _care_ what you think Albus, _he hasn't changed!_"

"Minerva, I honestly believe he has changed. You only see what you want to see-"

"What I _want _to see? Do you think I want to see an innocent man as a- a _bully_?"

"I admit he has been... childish, but Severus has also-" He was interrupted by a mad laugh from McGonagall, which he quickly shushed.

"_Childish?_" She cried, once she had recovered. "If you call constantly being at each others' throats _childish_-"

"They're not _constantly-_"

"Oh, but they are, Albus! You've heard them bickering, goading, all the snide remarks... They've been at wand point more than once!"

"It is the only safe place for him to go."

"Safe? Severus is supposed to _rest _and receive _treatment_, not be _riled _and _terrorized_!"

"He will stay here until he does not need treatment, before he leaves. You know as well as I do that he cannot stay and teach with the danger he is in, and unless you can think of somewhere he can go-"

"Why not allow him to stay with another Order member?"

During this discussion, Harry was slowly piecing together what was happening. She understood that Snape couldn't stay here, but she hadn't figured out who he was going to stay with. Sure, Harry knew the man wasn't the most likeable of people, but Harry was pretty sure no-one would terrorize an injured man purposefully.

"They are not protected enough-"

"But you could make it protected enough! You've done so before-"

"Even if I could, Minerva, who would take him?"

"I'm sure any one of the Order would take him in if _this_ was the other choice. Alastor, Kingsley... Albus, even I would take him in if the only other safe-house choice was Grimmauld Place!"

Harry's stomach dropped. The two adults carried on talking, but Harry heard them as if they were at the other end of a tunnel.

_Sirius and Snape under the same roof? _Harry shared the same sentiments as McGonagall â it was a _crazy_ idea! The two men despised each other! Did Dumbledore really think Snape would suddenly stop goading Sirius because he himself was injured? Sirius would (hopefully) leave the man well enough alone, and wouldn't terrorize him, despite what McGonagall thought.

Well, he wouldn't terrorize him if Harry had a word with him about it.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore and McGonagall had cleared up the argument, with McGonagall having obviously lost by her surly demeanour. However, even though he had won, Dumbledore still looked as old and as weary as he did when he first walked in.

"...If you are certain, Albus," McGonagall was saying. "Then I doubt anything I have to say will sway you."

"I always take what others say into account," Dumbledore replied. "But I am certain on this point that it is the best place for him."

McGonagall sighed. "Perhaps it is. Heaven knows he needs a break, with all the stress he's had from the Order and from Lord Vo-Voldemort... You have, of course, heard of Severus' recent behaviour in his classes?"

"I have."

"I told him to take it easy. You and I both did. But no, he insisted on returning to teach. Even after the frustration of failing to catch Potter."

"Yes."

"Missed Potter by a hair's breadth, didn't he?"

"Indeed. It seems that this search has... taken its toll."

""This search for Potter has taken its toll on everyone, but him most of all. Being posted on watch at all times of the night along with spying must've caused him no end of grief. Short temper, starting to see things... He was _certain _that Evans was Potter. What do you think of it all?"

"I wouldn't like to say." They turned towards her. Harry quickly shut the crack in her eyes that she was looking through.

"However, I have to say, I see Severus' point," McGonagall said. Harry heard the hem of her cloak sweep lightly across the floor as she approached her. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"But?"

"But... To be able to transfigure himself to be female... Well, I don't think he would be able to do it without being severely hurt. He was never excellent at Transfiguration. He was never the male counterpart of Miss Granger."

Dumbledore 'hmmed' in response, but said no more. They were silent for a while, and Harry could feel the burn of their gaze on the side of her face. Time passed, until McGonagall spoke again.

"Where do you think he is, Albus?"

Dumbledore watched Harry for a while, before slowly answering.

"I have my guesses... but nothing more."


	28. Chapter 28

The privacy curtains were still raised when Harry, left the Hospital Wing that afternoon. As soon as they had awoken, Madam Pomfrey had descended on Harry with diagnostics and potions, and chivvied Frankie and Megan out after five minutes of scolding for sneaking in at night. She had only freed Harry from her grasp after she promised to spend the resting and not to go to lessons.

This suited Harry just fine – she still had mounds of homework to complete, and she only had Defence Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon, which was definitely a class she was all too happy to miss. The fewer hours spent in Umbridge's presence, the better. Ever since Frankie's report and Harry's clash with the toad, she'd wished very much to spend as little time as possible in her presence. Her attitude was all too similar to the attitude people had when Lupin was outed as a werewolf – that half-and-halves were dangerous and stupid.

Harry kicked at the floor of the corridor in anger. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain that that sort of attitude was idiotic. Take Hagrid, for example. He was half-giant, yet he was the gentlest man Harry had met. Yes, he often tried to domesticate dragons, or show off creatures that were quite happy to eat you whole, but he was always kind to people and creatures. Even when they set his beard on fire. Harry remembered vividly of Norbert (or Norberta, as she was now called), the dragon Hagrid tried raising in his hut in her first year.

Harry turned a corner and found herself stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed where her feet had taken her. She stared up at the gold-burnished framed portrait, reminiscing the days she had spent with Ron, bogged down with homework and getting Hermione to do it for them. She remembered the Quidditch parties Fred and George used to throw, where they snuck into Hogsmeade to get sweets and Butterbeer. She remembered the squashy armchairs by the fire, and the scarlet four poster beds up the top of the spiral staircase, near the top of Gryffindor Tower.

"Can I help you with something?" Harry was wrenched out of memories by a sharp voice. The Fat Lady had noticed her presence and was staring at her, her expression calculative.

"No, no... I was just... looking..." Harry stuttered. She went to walk past the portrait and down the stairs, but at that moment, the portrait swung open. Harry heard a cry of "Come _on_, Ron, we'll be late!" before something very heavy barrelled into her side. With a slight _oomph _Harry fell to the floor, with the heavy-something landing somewhere near.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Harry looked across and saw the heavy-something was in fact Hermione. She seemed not to have noticed who she was, intent on gathering the many papers that had fallen out of her bag. However someone, who had stopped to help, had.

"Hey, you're that new girl aren't you?" That someone asked, looking at her. Harry's heart gave a little stab of pain as she met the all too familiar blue eyes of Ron.

"Erm... Yeah, yeah I am." Harry replied, stuttering again. Hermione had looked up from her paper picking-up and was now staring, mouth slightly agape. Ron did not notice Hermione's reaction, and stuck out his hand in greeting.

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Evans." They shook hands, and Ron hauled her up as when their hands connected.

"And this i- Hermione, are you alright?" Ron had turned to indicate to Hermione, and found her still knelt down, staring at Harry with bewilderment etched on her features. She snapped out of it once Ron touched her arm, and she rose to shake Harry's hand too.

"I'm sorry, it's just..." She hesitated, but carried on regardless. "You just... look so much like a friend of mine."

Harry's insides squirmed uncomfortably. With a falsely cheerful air, she asked "Oh, who is he?"

"Just... a friend- Wait..." Hermione looked up at him, brows creased. "How did you know he was a boy?"

Harry's insides plummeted like a rock in water. "Erm... I just... guessed." Now Ron was staring at her suspiciously too. It was getting increasingly uncomfortable, and Harry longed to escape the situation. "I've got to go... homework to do... and... stuff..."

At this, Hermione started, as if electrocuted. "Oh my- Ron, we're late for Defence!"

"But-" Ron seemed to want to carry on with the discussion, but Hermione had started to drag him away. With a last suspicious glance, he followed Hermione down the stairs. Harry let out a breath of relief as they vanished round the corner of another corridor.

_That was too close, _she thought to herself as she descended the stairs, notably slower than Hermione and Ron. Now it wasn't just Dumbledore who was suspicious – it was also Ron and Hermione. Harry had to admit, his plan to hide as a girl was starting to crumble. The people he was hiding from were starting to guess, and one already knew. The plan was failing, and there was nothing Harry could do but wait until it all fell down.

But, even though it was only a matter of time until everything ended, Harry couldn't help feel a little happiness at the fact that it was only a matter of time before Ron and Hermione would know, and she could speak to them again, as best friends.

The end of lesson bell rang as Harry sat down in the bathroom again, Sirius' mirror in her hands. She wanted to tell Sirius about the events of the day, on the off-chance that he might have an idea that she hadn't thought of concerning everyone knowing.

The mirror fogged as she said his name, and cleared almost immediately, revealing Sirius' handsome face. Harry smiled at him, momentarily forgetting her problems for the happiness of seeing her godfather. Sirius grinned wolfishly back.

"Harry! Nice to see you again!"

"And you, Sirius!"

"How are you?" These three words knocked Harry back into the realm of reality. The smile slipped off of her face. Sirius noticed her glum countenance change almost immediately.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione have started to suspect something." Harry retold the events of the day, leaving out the part about Snape going to Grimmauld Place. She wanted his whole attention on the problem at hand. She'd talk to him about Snape later.

At the end of the tale, Sirius looked pensive. He was silent for a while, before he hesitantly spoke.

"You do realise-"

"I know." Harry replied. "I either wait for everything to fall, or I come clean. I haven't a clue what to do."

Sirius looked pensive for a while longer, until he came to some sort of decision in his mind. "I'd say stay as you are, for now."

"Stay?"

"Stay. They're not completely sure yet, and you've done so much for this. Why give up now?"

"I guess that's true... Thanks Sirius."

"Sirius smiled encouragingly at her. "That's the spirit. And look at it this way- at least the greasy git isn't bugging you about it, right?" Harry looked away. Sirius frowned.

"Harry..."

Harry took a fortifying breath. "Sirius, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"What is it? If that damned-"

"No he hasn't done anything." This wasn't strictly true, but Sirius didn't need to worry himself about that right now. "It's... umm..." It took Harry about a minute of focus, and of Sirius encouraging her to finally start to tell Sirius of the predicament.

"Sirius, you know Snape is a spy, right?"

"Yes..."

"He's not anymore."

"Right... Wait, what do you mean 'not any more'?"

"Voldemort found him out."

"Oh."

"So he can't teach, in case one of the Death Eater children try to get vengeance on him for not dying."

"Right..." Sirius still looked completely perplexed, so Harry spat the next words out in a rush.

"He's badly injured, and they're going to send him to Grimmauld Place to recuperate."

It took only a moment for Sirius to realise what she just said. The resounding "WHAT?" echoed around the bathroom, and Harry was almost certain anyone who was stood in the bedroom could've heard it.

"Sirius, please! Keep your voice down!"

"I'm not-"

"Accept it as something you have to do, ok?"

"But Snape-"

"Snape will be injured, and won't be doing anything much."

"Harry..." Sirius looked pleadingly at her, seeking sympathy. "You must understand that we cannot abide by each other."

"I know. I can't do anything either, Sirius. Just... Please, promise me that you won't deliberately provoke him."

"Since when have you cared for Snape?" Sirius asked bitterly, turning his head away.

"Since I saw him half-ruined in a hospital bed this morning. Now, promise me?"

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment a woman's voice was heard distantly from Sirius' end. Sirius turned and replied, before turning back to Harry.

"Got to go, Hestia Jones has arrived for an Order meeting." With that, the mirror fogged up, and Harry was left staring at an empty frame. Harry hit the floor in frustration, and immediately regretted it – his fist now throbbed painfully. But he didn't focus on the pain for long, as a immediately recognisable Welsh accented voice came from the now-open doorway.

"Hello, Harry Potter."


	29. Chapter 29

Megan stood in the doorway, arms crossed and forehead creased. Harry's stomach felt as if it had dropped to the bottom of a bottomless pit. She leapt to her feet in fright, trying to get her jaw to work from its current position on the floor.

"What- How- _How?_" She managed to gasp out, stuttering and starting like a first-year faced with Snape. A flash of Snape's body flashed in her mind's eye, but she pushed it away – now was not the time to be thinking about _that_.

"Just a few… _hints._" Megan spoke quietly, but with a slight edge to her voice which made goose bumps pop up over Harry's skin. "Your uncanny resemblance, the constant staring at Ron and Hermione, the shape of your Patronus… And if that wasn't enough, your house-elf had the idiocy to call you Harry Potter when I was in the same room!"

"Dobby's not an idiot!" Harry snapped back . "He's just a bit… excitable."

"I see." Megan did not look impressed. "Either way, you've been trying to hide for well over two months, and I have to say you've been doing a piss-poor job of it."

"Hey! I've been doing a pretty good job hiding from the-" Harry suddenly stopped speaking, aware that he'd almost spilled the existence of the Order to an outsider. "I've been good at hiding from Dumbledore and… stuff…" he finally mumbled. Megan watched him with a calculating eye, before pushing the door shut behind her, and pushing the bolt across. She turned to Harry, and her next words were spoken quietly but firmly.

"Harry, I already know about the Order." she said. Harry looked at her blankly, thoughts momentarily halted at the admission.

"But- what-how- _how?" _she asked again. Megan rolled her eyes, and settled on the edge of the bath.

"You heard of Hestia Jones?"

"Erm… Sirius mentioned her once, I think. Is she you mum?"

"Mum? Nah. Hestia's a singleton for life – enjoys life too much to settle down. She's my cousin – I stayed with her for the summer once in Grimmauld Place. Nasty place it was too."

"Oh." Harry fell silent. The reality of the situation had started to dawn on him. She had only known Megan for a few days. She didn't know how she would react, what she would do. Would she keep it private, like Sirius? Or would she tell Dumbledore, like Snape threatened to do? Her head fell into her hands, and she flumped onto the toilet seat. "What are you going to do now?"

"Not me. _We._" she replied. Harry could feel Megan's eyes on her bowed head. "_We_ are going to Dumbledore, and _we _are going to tell him what has happened."

"No! We can't!"

"Why not? If anyone can help, he can."

"I..." Harry racked her brains for a reason. To be honest, there wasn't one that would stand the Welsh girl's scrutiny. Most of her reasoning was based on her anger at Dumbledore's lack of trust in her over the summer. Was this a good enough reason to hide?

Hiding had given her nothing but grief. Yes, the life without the blaring fame of Harry Potter had been nice – no Malfoy, for example – but its downsides took the fun out of life. No Hermione to bounce ideas from. No Ron to have a bit of a laugh with. No freedom to do what she liked, lest it revealed her true identity.

Was this reason – a reason based in anger, no less – good enough to put her happiness aside?

Was this reason strong enough to keep the ones she loved in perpetual darkness?

Was this reason true enough to keep the Order worrying over her?

Now that was a thought. _Was _the Order worrying over her? Harry didn't know the majority of the Order members personally – only Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sirius and possibly Mr and Mrs Weasley. They would all be worrying about her (well, all bar Snape), but what about the others? What about Megan's cousin Hestia? Would she be worrying about _her_, or would she be worrying about_ The Chosen One_?

A flash of anger went through her. That was probably the main reason the Order was worrying – without her, they seemed to think they could not kill Voldemort. How they expected a fifteen year old boy- girl- _thing_ to kill a powerful sixty year old psychopath when they were too frightened to try, Harry didn't know. Why they didn't just kill him themselves was another question Harry didn't know the answer to.

Now she had a choice. Either have her friends and life back, but have Dumbledore watching her every move, or be free from the prying eyes of the world but having to lose what she loved dearly. It wasn't a choice she wanted to make, but it seemed she had no choice any more.

_Unless_...

Harry looked up and stared Megan straight in the eye. "I have my reasons, but I'm not telling you them. We're not going to Dumbledore."

Megan looked slightly surprised at the confident tone Harry had adopted, but wasn't about to back down just yet. "But-"

"No buts, we're not going."

"Don't you want this sorted?"

"Yes, though-"

"Do you want Ron and Hermione and all your friends to worry?"

"No, but-"

"No buts. We're going."

"No, we're not."

"Why not? You've just said you want your old friends to stop worrying, and that you want to go back to being Harry Potter – why are you avoiding the one man who can sort it for you?"

"Because of reasons. And he's not the only one who can sort it."

"Yes he is, he's-"

"No, he's not the only one." Seeing Megan was about to interrupt her, she carried on talking. "All this can be solved if I only tell Ron and Hermione."

"...What?"

"You heard me."

"But how's that going to solve anything?"

"If I tell Ron and Hermione, they'll stop worrying. Problem one solved."

"What about going back to being Harry Potter?"

"That can wait. I'd have some semblance of normality if Ron and Hermione know – perhaps I won't need to be Harry Potter for a while."

"But you just said-"

"I know what I said! I said I wanted my old life back! And that's what I'm doing! My old life consisted of Ron and Hermione. I'm getting my old life back – or the most important part of it, anyway."

"Won't being like... umm... _that_... bother you?"

"'Like that'? You mean being a girl? It might. It might not. As long as I can do what I want as this, I don't really care."

Someone knocked on the bathroom door, making both Megan and Harry jump out of their skins in fright.

"Are you guys finished yet?" Susan Bones' voice drifted through the wooden door.

"Just a minute." Megan yelled back. She turned back to Harry, looking resigned. "All right, I'll leave it be."

"Thank you."

"I'm still not happy with this, you know. Too much lying for me to be comfortable with." She turned and pulled back the bolt and opened the door.

...only for her to almost trip over the group of Hufflepuff's that sat patiently outside. It must have been an impromptu study session, Harry thought, since Ernie was in the girls' dorm, along with the seventh-year Hufflepuff Frankie and Susan, who had called through the door.

Megan observed them with a critical eye. "You weren't listening at the door, were you?"

They shuffled around and refused to look each other in the eye.

"Well..."

"Umm..."

"We only heard the last part." Susan finally said, staring at the floor. "It was kind of hard not to."

"You were both kinda screaming." Frankie interjected.

"So is it true that you're Harry Potter? I heard a few suspicions from Hermione, but I never really thought..." Ernie asked, lowering his voice. Harry looked at them all and realised there wasn't much point in lying.

"Yes, I am."

"And if you treat him- her?" Megan looked to Harry for confirmation. At her nod, she continued. "If you treat her any different, I shall punch you. Everyone clear?"

"Yes, but... _wow_." Frankie, for some reason beyond Harry's understanding, looked impressed. "I mean...but... _wow_. How did it happen, Harry?"

"I honestly don't know." Harry said. "But I need you to promise not to tell anybody outside this room."

"What about the other Hufflepuffs?" Ernie asked. "It's going to be hard keeping anything from Justin..."

"Even the others, Ernie." Megan said. "I'm all for honesty, but Harry has hi- _her _reasons to keep it quiet."

"But, if we told only the people we trust, they wouldn't rat Harry out, would they?"

"It's not a question of trust, Ernie. I mean, for example, I'd trust Zach with my life, but that boy can't keep his mouth shut for two seconds. If Justin accidentally told him, thinking he knew, it would be all over the school by breakfast the next morning."

"Well... okay..." Ernie agreed slowly. "I'm not exactly happy, but if we need to keep this quiet, I won't tell."

"Thank you, Ernie." Harry said, gratitude in his voice. He had been worried that they'd tell him to go to Dumbledore, or they'd spill the beans to the rest of the house, but it seemed that they would keep quiet. Hufflepuffs were known for their loyalty, after all.

"Well, if that's all the serious stuff over with," Susan said, getting up from the floor. "Can I please now use the loo? I've been bursting for an _hour._"


	30. Chapter 30

True to their word, not a word was spoken by the four to anyone. There were a few almosts during their discussions about Umbridge (though these were short – they still endeavoured to avoid the subject whenever either Harry or Zach was around) and their discussions about whatever rubbish the prophet spouted out about his vanishing act on a weekly basis.

Getting around to telling Ron and Hermione was harder than it seemed, however. Ever since the "Fat Lady" incident (as Harry liked to call it), Harry had hardly seen the pair. They were never in the corridors when he passed, and they avoided all contact when they were in the same classroom. Hermione had even taken to sitting on the opposite side of the room to Harry during Arithmency, even though Ernie, who always sat next to Harry, often needed her help, and had to pass notes without Professor Vector noticing. Which was exceptionally difficult – however nice Professor Vector was, note passing simply could not occur under her hawk-like gaze.

So, after a few weeks of failed attempts at any sort of contact, Harry was left floundering, completely planless. Any plans that did come to mind often involved Ron and Hermione being in the general vicinity, and for that reason alone they were shot down in flames. Plans involving hours of unobtrusive lurking outside the Gryffindor Common Room had resulted in nothing but the Fat Lady harbouring some extreme suspicion for her. She'd even tried calling Dobby to send a message to them, only to find out that they were now consistently surrounded by the entirety of Gryffindor House, and therefore getting an unobtrusive message to either of them was near impossible.

It did not help that Megan was hounding her daily about telling _someone_ from her past about the problem at hand. Every evening, when Harry would arrive in the common room, she'd turn a questioning gaze to him, and each time he'd shake his head.

"I'm doing the best I can!" Harry burst out, after a particularly trying day in which her scar would not stop aching and everything she said started an argument. For example, Umbridge had decided to spew out some Ministry propaganda and Harry had decided to contradict her. This resulted in a colossal inter-class war which only ended when Umbridge threatened them all with 'severe discipline'. Harry doubted she was talking about detention.

"It can't be that hard," Megan replied, looking around to make sure no-one was listening in. "I mean, all you have to do is find them and say 'I'm Harry Potter', then prove it."

"How can I do that if I never see them?" he replied. "It's pretty hard to talk to someone when they've almost vanished off the face of the earth."

"Hey, don't take it out on me! I'm only trying to help!"

"Sorry." Harry rubbed his scar absentmindedly. It did nothing for the aching which had not yet ceased. Megan rolled her eyes.

"Look, we're here for you, yeah? Me and Susan and Ernie are all happy to help. Frankie too. We can get them to speak to you if you want-"

"No." Harry cut across her. "This is something I have to do myself. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Ok then. What's your plan then, Mister Do-It-Alone?"

"I don't have one, yet."

"Well that's a good start." Megan replied flatly.

"Maybe I'll get lucky tomorrow," Harry ploughed on, ignoring Megan's comment. "Maybe they'll suddenly kidnap me out of nowhere and ask whether I'm Harry Potter or not."

"That is completely mad."

"It's a nice thought, though."

Megan stared at her, before snorting and turning back to her homework, mumbling under her breath in Welsh.

Little did they know that would be exactly what would happen the next day.

Well, almost.

* * *

Harry was leaving the Great Hall after dinner, unaccompanied by the Hufflepuffs for once. They'd evidently decided Harry could find her way around the school well enough by now, and so Harry could walk alone if she so wished. Which she did wish on this particular day.

She turned a corner into the entrance hall and was about to descend the steps to the Hufflepuff common room when a hand suddenly appeared and pulled her into a nearby classroom.

"For serious, ask me next time, Sna-" Harry began to say, before belatedly remembering that the Potions Professor was still lying comatose in the Hospital Wing, and was therefore unavailable to be pulling Harry into any classrooms again. She whirled around to discover the identity of her assailant.

"_Ron_?_"_

Ron stood in front of the classroom door, arms folded. The look he gave her was so reminiscent of Mrs Weasley, Harry felt as if she was in Deep Trouble.

"Look, I want to make this quick." Ron began.

"What-" Harry tried asking, but Ron carried on, as if Harry had never spoken.

"You know Hermione, yeah?"

"Yes, but I-"

"Stay away from her."

"What? Why? I haven't been near her!"

"It's just-" Ron stopped for a moment, and looked uncomfortable. "You look like s- someone she knows, who's died, and- well- she just- Look, just don't go near her. Stay out of her sight."

"What? Ron, what's going on?" Harry asked, but Ron was turning back towards the door, his message delivered.

"It's none of your business. Just keep away."

"Ron, get back here, tell me what's going on!" Harry yelled after him, but he didn't turn around. "Ron, I'm her best friend-"

"What?" Ron turned around so fast Harry was surprised he didn't fall over. It was then Harry recalled what he had just said.

_Better face the music then, _the voice in his mind smirked. Harry ignored it.

"Ron, I'm Harry. I'm Harry Potter."

There was a very pregnant pause. Ron looked dumbfounded, before his expression curled up into a scowl.

"You cruel bitch!" He yelled, absolutely furious. "That's completly wrong- you _foul_-"

"Wait, Ron!" Ron was retreating towards the door, still spitting out expletives. "Ron, look, stay- watch- _Expecto Patronum!_" The stag burst forth from the tip of her wand and cantered around the room. Ron's retreat slowed as he watched it circle the room.

"T-That doesn't prove it!" he said, but Harry could sense the uncertainty in his voice. "Anyone can have a stag Patronus!" Ron turned to run from the room, but Harry was ready for that.

"_Colloportus!_" The door sealed itself shut. Ron shook the handle, but seeing it wasn't about to budge, he turned wildly to glare at Harry.

"You crazy witch, what was that for?" Ron spoke with an edge of panic to his voice. Harry ignored him.

"Ron, our first year, we went exploring and found that mirror, yeah?"

"I-"

"When you looked into it, you saw an older self. You saw yourself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. You were holding the Quidditch Cup." At Harry's words, Ron went pale.

"How'd you know-"

"I told you, I'm Harry." They stared at each other, before Harry saw Ron's fury seep out of him, leaving just nervousness.

"Harry?"

"Yes."

Ron opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. Several times he tried speaking, before gesturing vaguely at his forehead. Harry lifted her fringe and, with a licked finger, wiped away the make-up, revealing the jagged lightning scar. A few moments passed, before Harry felt her ribs being crushed as Ron lumbered forward and hooked her into a bear hug. Not knowing what to do, Harry awkwardly patted his head.

"Er- Ron?" Ron didn't reply. "Ron, you can let go." At her words, Ron came to his senses and released her , looking slightly embarrassed.

"Erm, sorry 'bout that." He mumbled. "But can I ask what the hell happened to you? I mean, you don't just suddenly just- well-" He gestured at her body.

"I think you'd better sit down first. It's a long story." Ron sagged into a nearby chair, while Harry perched on the edge of the desk. Briefly, Harry regaled the tale, from the summer realization to hiding out in Grimmauld Place, excluding the Snape-Library scenario – she felt Ron wouldn't understand. Ron was a good listener, and didn't interrupt until Harry had finished. At the end of the story, he let out a low whistle.

"Blimey, Harry." He said. "You've been through the works, you have."

Harry just smiled slightly in reply, before asking. "Well, now you know, what are you gonna do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like are you gonna leave, stay…?"

"Well I can't exactly leave, you've locked the door." Ron jokingly pointed out, grinning, before adopting a more sober expression. "But y'know, you're still my best mate, so I'm not gonna leave… I'm guessing there's a reason you haven't told Dumbledore?

"There is." Harry didn't elaborate, and Ron didn't press for details, realising Harry wasn't about to speak on the matter.

"We've got to tell Hermione though – she's been half-crazed since you left."

"I wanted to tell you both at the same time, but…" Harry trailed off, before changing the subject slightly. "What did you mean by Hermione being 'half-crazed'?"

"Well…" Ron shifted uncomfortably. "She's been kinda… well, mad. I mean, she was quiet and all when she was with us Weasleys over the summer, but we all were – we didn't know if you were alive or dead, y'know? We came back to Hogwarts, then Hermione saw you in the Great Hall. And that's where it started, really. She kept swearing it was you, but we all told her she was seeing things, cause we didn't know it was actually you. She was being driven up the wall by seeing you and thinking it was you, but knowing – well, thinking she knew – that it wasn't you."

"Is she alright?" Harry asked, worrying her bottom lip. She didn't expect her friends to take her disappearance so hard…

"I don't think she's sleeping properly, and her grades have dropped since you've been gone. I mean, she got a "Poor" in her Charms test, and she didn't bat an eyelid. Just sort of… put it away, and didn't talk about it…"

Harry was silent for a moment, digesting the report, before she suddenly rose and went for the door. "Come on, we need to find her. I didn't think it would be this bad…"

"Harry, we're your friends. Of course it was going to be this bad. In fact, I'm surprised it isn't worse." Upon seeing Harry's guilty countenance, he tried to make her feel better. "Come on Harry, how were you to know? You're not the sharpest wand in the box…"

Harry elbowed him, smiling slightly, though still feeling the weight of guilt on her shoulders. She reached for her wand and pointed it at the closed door.

"_Alohamora_." The door didn't budge. She tried again. The same thing happened.

"Err, Harry?" Ron asked nervously. "I'm guessing you don't know how to reopen the door, do you?"

Harry didn't reply.


End file.
